


polaris

by onidayo



Series: celestial bodies [3]
Category: JBJ (Band), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Activism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Denial of Feelings, Families of Choice, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internal Conflict, Introspection, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oblivious Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Transphobia, feelings - freeform, hyunbin is pure of heart but surprisingly not dumb of ass, jisung is good at dealing with everyone's feelings but his own, minor side kenggyun, see note for details
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onidayo/pseuds/onidayo
Summary: 「polaris (n.): located at the end of the handle of the little dipper, the brightest star in the ursa minor constellation. used for navigation, since it is the closest star to the north celestial pole and remains stationary throughout the night. from the medieval latin, "heavenly".」jisung learns to follow his own advice and discovers his lucky star.
Relationships: Kwon Hyunbin/Yoon Jisung
Series: celestial bodies [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1308608
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	polaris

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: this is a sequel spin-off to the previous works in this series and mentions things that happened in those fics as well as some established relationships & character dynamics.
> 
> about the violence/blood/injury tags:
> 
> this work features jisung working a day job as a nurse and caring for hyunbin & co's various injuries as a result of their activism. nothing is described in too much detail and it never gets gruesome, but i know even mild stuff can squick some people out so, better safe than sorry. includes mentions of bruises, stitches, broken ribs, concussions, dislocated joints & black eyes.
> 
> the nsfw content makes up only a small part of this fic but i still wanted to tag it appropriately, of course. 
> 
> this was written for the most part as my nanowrimo challenge oops.

> _< < You're in a car with a beautiful boy,_
> 
> _and he won't tell you that he loves you,_
> 
> _but he loves you. >>_

“Ow, ow ow!” 

Jisung sighs and pulls back a little, throwing the cotton ball in the bin next to his seat. “Seriously? If you’re so sensitive, maybe try, I don’t know, not getting into fights as often?” 

Across from him, fingers hovering above the fresh scrape on his knee, Hyunbin smiles his usual cat-like smile, which quickly turns into a pout when Jisung swats his hand away.

“Don’t. That doesn’t work on me, remember?”

It’s only half a lie. Jisung would be hard-pressed to deny his fondness for Hyunbin, after seeing him come in so many times with bloody knuckles and split lips, but he also knows he has to stay professional and that giving in would be an admission of things he still doesn’t want to own up to. So he shakes his head and gets back to work, patches the wound up. Hyunbin’s lucky that it’s only superficial this time - Jisung remembers all too well having to call an ambulance when Hyunbin had collapsed in the lobby one evening, right as he was about to clock out, three broken ribs and a concussion that he claimed were just a bruise. 

Sure, it’s not always like that. Most of the time, Hyunbin and his friends come in and they look worse for wear, but they leave the clinic good as new. 

“You’re all done. Try not to strain this knee too much, ok?” Jisung warns Hyunbin, even though he knows it’s a lost cause already.

Hyunbin nurses the joint for a few seconds before he stands up, gives a few half-hearted kicks into the air to check that everything still works. “Mm, you know me though,” he says, and then he winks, and Jisung isn’t sure if he wants to throw a roll of paper towel at Hyunbin’s head or disappear into the floor because of how red he can feel himself getting. 

This kind of barely disguised suggestive talk shouldn’t be getting to him this much. He knows sex - he’s in the business. When the moon goes up and the stage lights come on, he knows all about making another man blush. And yet here, under the clinic’s dirty white neons, he’s completely at Hyunbin’s mercy and there’s nothing he can do about it except send him on his way and hope he doesn’t come back too soon.

  
  


As it is, Hyunbin always does end up coming back.

  
  
  


Jisung remembers the first time like a shooting star burning across his memory.

It's four in the afternoon on a Monday and they're almost done with all their appointments. Jisung is walking one of their regular patients to the door when he's bowled over by a young man in a worn-out leather jacket. He's carrying someone on his back, and his eyes are wild with worry, so Jisung immediately steps aside to let him through, four other people stumbling in one after the other.

"What's going on?" Sewoon perks up from behind his desk, and his eyes grow wide when he notices the scene.

Jisung takes a breath and looks at each of the people in turn, trying to assess the situation. "Give me a minute!"

He motions for the young man to put his friend down, and the friend hisses as soon as his feet touch the floor.

"We didn't think they'd go this far," one of the other people mumbles, blonde hair tousled and stuck to his forehead with blood. "Fuck, is there anything you can do?"

There always is. If the injury is out of Jisung's capabilities, then he can always refer the group to the nearby hospital, but he gets the feeling there's no time to organize that quite yet.

"Sit him down," he orders, and the young man obliges, and his friend winces just from the few steps he needs to take to the chairs in the waiting room. "Hey. Can you tell me your name?"

"Donghan..." the young man breathes out, but it seems like it's the most he can say right now, barely managing to keep his eyes open.

Jisung has seen people in pretty bad shape before, it's a part of the job he doesn't enjoy but has to deal with, but this feels unusually cruel, and he needs to know. "Tell me what happened."

He's heard stories like this before, but doesn't go near the scene enough to have actually seen them happening. The taller of the young men tells him, voice growing increasingly panicked as he watches his friend clutch his leg in pain, and Jisung can hear how much he cares, his heart constricting a little more with each word of the story.

"We were just there to support to protesters, we didn't even engage this time but these people," he runs a hand through his hair as he finishes, and Jisung can see that his eyes are flooded with tears that he's holding back. "They didn't care. They just wanted to bash some queers and be on their way."

"There were three or four of them, just on him," the blonde from earlier remarks, his voice heavy with anger.

Jisung scrubs a hand down his face to try and chase away his own growing frustration, because things like this never seem to change, not from the time he was on those same frontlines, seeing the same things happen to his own friends. "Sewoon, please call the hospital, tell them to send an ambulance." He kneels down in front of the injured young man, hands making quick work of examining his injuries. "Broken clavicle, but tell them to check his ribs too, I can’t tell if they’re just bruised or straight up broken. He might have a concussion, too."

There's a loud noise that makes Jisung jump out of his skin, and he looks to the side to see another member of the group with his fist balled up against the back of a chair. He doesn't say anything, gathers himself quicker than Jisung thought possible, and stands up. "Kenta," he motions to the man next to him, "we're going with him. Hyunbin," the young man who had come in first responds to his name being called, but he doesn't say a word. "You and Sanggyun should go get some clean clothes for him, meet us at the hospital, ok? And be careful. Don't get separated."

It's only a few minutes before the ambulance gets there, and the three of them are off, and Jisung is left with his fists balled up in the pockets of his scrubs, frustration at his own powerlessness washing over him. He takes a breath, tries to recenter himself before he does anything else, before he lets his emotions get the better of him.

"Let's get you patched up before you go anywhere," he calls for the two left behind, who are already gathering themselves to leave.

They comply easily, because the blonde's - Sanggyun's, Jisung deduces - forehead is still shiny with fresh blood and he feels dizzy as he walks to the back where the medical rooms are. Jisung beeps Eunki to take care of him, and he calls the other man in his own office, wrings his hands as he waits for him to sit down.

"What's your name?" Jisung asks absentmindedly, pulling out a pair of gloves.

He doesn't expect that answer will etch itself across his heart the way it has.

"Hyunbin."

  
  
  


It barely takes two weeks for all of them to show up again.

Jisung comes up from his office to find the group sitting in a row in the waiting room, Donghan noticeably present despite his previous ordeal, although he seems to be holding himself up this time around.

This time, he's not the one who's worse for wear.

"Is it going to be like this often, with you lot?" Jisung surveils the entire group before his eyes land on Hyunbin, his face swollen and red, blood drying on his lower lip. "Seriously..."

Hyunbin attempts a smile, but he manages only a pained grunt. "Life just takes you places sometimes." He shrugs. "This is one of them."

Unbelievable.

After they'd left the previous time, Jisung had hoped that they'd decide to lay low, to be more careful and not throw themselves headfirst into harm's way. Seems that was a losing battle from the start, because even though none of them look pleased about Hyunbin's injuries, it doesn't take long for Jisung to notice that they're all very much raring to go again at a moment's notice.

It's only Hyunbin who tries to play off his current state. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"Tell that to your jawbone, you're lucky it didn't break," Jisung lightly scolds him, examining the now purple bruise sprawling across Hyunbin's jawline.

Even if he really wants to give Hyunbin a life lesson of sorts, Jisung holds himself back. He's not too pleased with the idea that this is a regular thing, but he’s starting to think he doesn’t have a say in it at all.

“‘ _ Fortune favors the brave’ _ , right?” Hyunbin proudly claims, though he winces when Jisung cleans up the blood on his face. “How does this hurt more than getting punched in the face?”

All the people he sees passing through the clinic usually sit there silently, small talk over the weather or the news quickly abandoned as soon as Jisung gets to work. But Hyunbin doesn’t seem to let up, ever, and Jisung finds himself more amused by it than he ever thought he’d be.

Everything that happens to him and his friends is the result of so much hate, Jisung knows. He’s been running from all of it long enough, hiding away in plain sight because he knows what happens once people figure him out. This world is cruel to them, it will be for a long time. 

There's something about the way Hyunbin seems to face it head-on that's so terribly endearing, and Jisung feels a spot in his heart opening up. 

  
  
  


Jisung remembers asking, the third or fourth time they come in, what Hyunbin and his friends do to always get themselves in trouble like this. He had a bit of an idea, but didn’t want

“When you have a cause, you gotta be ready to fight for it, yeah?” Sanggyun, loud-mouthed and eager, had replied while Jisung was stitching up his brow bone. “It’s only flesh wounds, not much of a price to pay.” 

He’d seemed so sure of himself, so willing to go out and do it all over again, and Jisung’s heart had ached for him, for all of them. In the midst of his quiet existence, they’d appeared like a reminder of where he came from. The clinic had always been open with the goal of helping anyone who might need it, but Jisung always paid special attention to them, and if offering them this safe haven to rest for just a little while was all he could do, then at least it would make his job worth it.

  
  


Sewoon usually beeps him first when he sees the group walk through the door, and Jisung is never far anyway.

It’s become an unspoken rule at the clinic that although the other nurses are always on duty, Jisung takes the group as his responsibility, that Jisung always sees them first. Sure he’ll dispatch them to his colleagues most of the time, but he’s always the one to write up their file, always the one to assess the situation first, because almost in spite of himself, he’s started to feel like he has a responsibility towards them. It’s in his nature, and he’s learned long ago there’s no use fighting it. 

Most of the group is usually okay with being treated by someone else, as long as they get the job done properly - and Jisung wouldn’t ever think that any of his colleagues can’t - but for some reason, Hyunbin always waits for Jisung. He claims it’s not that bad, that he can tough it out, even when he’s bleeding through his jeans or barely able to open one of his eyes, and Jisung isn’t sure if it would be unprofessional to order him to get seen by someone else, so he doesn’t.

Thankfully, they don’t get that much traffic anyway - mostly appointments with elderly area residents, or kids who scraped their knees playing in the park near the school a block away, so Jisung is always able to attend to Hyunbin.

“What do you do, when you get hurt on my day off?” he asks Hyunbin one day, pulling a roll of bandage all the way around Hyunbin’s wrist, securing the splint he put in place. 

Hyunbin cranes his neck and squints at the neon lights on the ceiling. “I just lick my wounds.”

Jisung later learns from the file that Eunki usually takes care of it, but he’s completely unable to get the image out of his mind.

  
  


In all honesty, he does enjoy the company. Hyunbin and his friends aren’t anything like the people Jisung hangs around these days, much more anchored in their own beliefs, fighting a battle that many would call already lost. Jisung doesn’t really think of himself as an activist, not anymore, even though it wasn’t that long ago that he went to college rallies and tried to speak up. Now he blends in, lives his life on the sidelines until it’s time for the limelight, the nights that are still his, cathartic as much as they are liberating. Clearly, as life has taken great care to show him, there are other people better suited to lead this fight.

He’s sure of it because he’s seen them, standing up every time they get knocked down, holding onto each other, arms thrown across shoulders used for support when their legs won’t quite do the trick anymore. 

He’s sure of it because of how Hyunbin speaks of it all, when he’s sitting on the bench, letting Jisung stitch and patch him up like it’s nothing, because he feels like it’s worth it. Every time as Jisung listens, and he feels his heart growing and nearly capsizing, he swears he can see something blooming beneath the stitches. 

  
  


“How do you keep doing this?” Jisung asks once as he’s bandaging Hyunbin’s hand up. “I mean… I get that you’re dedicated, but aren’t you afraid it’s going to go too far one day?”

As sinister as it is, the thought only seems to bother Hyunbin for a fleeting moment. “Maybe. But not really?” He tries opening and closing his hand as soon as Jisung is done, powering through the movement despite the pained expression that takes over his face. “But I think I’d feel worse if I didn’t do anything.”

Jisung knows he can’t really argue with that logic. 

Maybe that’s why he feels so drawn to Hyunbin, despite every rational bone in his body telling him that it’s a bad idea, that these kinds of feelings are nothing but trouble and unnecessary pain. Been there, done that, he tries to remind himself. Every time he’s tried giving a chance to this kind of relationship, to let his feelings take the lead, Jisung found himself broken down a little further, left just a little more alone than he was before. 

People leave, and Jisung tries to learn, but it suddenly stops being so seemingly easy every time Hyunbin crosses the threshold. 

  
  
  


"This is going to hurt," Jisung warns, raising the soaked cotton ball up to Hyunbin’s eye level. Hyunbin’s had to deal with a fair share of the same in the past, sure, but Jisung doesn’t forget how he likes to play soft.

Hyunbin shrugs ever so slightly. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me,” he says, his face perfectly still for a second before he bursts out laughing at Jisung’s apparent confusion. “Seriously, it’s fine. Probably serves me right.”

“I can’t believe you punched a wall,” Jisung sighs, using the change of topic to focus back on his work and start disinfecting the wounds on Hyunbin’s knuckles and fingers. 

He’s been notified so he knows that’s not exactly what happened, but the idea of Hyunbin being any more in harm’s way than he already is on a daily basis isn’t one that he likes to entertain.

“Hey, I missed! Happens to everyone!” Hyunbin protests. “The guy should count himself lucky, fucking coward ran away before I could realize.” 

He takes another look at Jisung after he says this, and can probably tell how worried Jisung is.

“Okay, okay. I’ll only pick fights in wide-open spaces from now on.”

That’s not exactly the reassurance Jisung needs to hear, but he knows there’s no use trying to pull Hyunbin - or any of them, for that matter - away from their cause and their purpose. And Jisung wouldn’t ever really dream of it either, he’s grateful for all of them and their action. He just wishes it wouldn’t result in quite so many scars. 

For Hyunbin, he supposes they’re stories.

There are always two sides to each one, and Jisung often wonders how Hyunbin feels when he’s sitting there, just the two of them in this incidental setting, not the ideal circumstances for any kind of relationship to develop, but it’s their circumstances just the same. Something about that is precious to Jisung, something intangible and yet so present every time he’s with Hyunbin.

He just wishes he could tell if that same thing is important to Hyunbin, too. Maybe then Jisung would know what to do with these feelings he carries around, or at least he could try. 

  
  


“How’s the longing?” Sewoon doesn’t even look up from his computer when he asks as Jisung closes the door after seeing Hyunbin out. 

As friendly as Sewoon is, his filter seems to be permanently off and Jisung really wishes he could find a way to turn it back on at least some of the time.

“No such thing.” He says, filing away the day’s reports and handing them over. 

Sewoon snorts at that, a rare occurrence that makes Jisung wonder if he is really in that deep. “Please. You’re so lovelorn you could be a drama protagonist.” 

That one stings. Jisung feels a shiver running through his body and he tries the best he can not to let it show, to brush Sewoon and his fables off. But there’s a pinpoint precision in the way Sewoon just figured him out that makes Jisung uneasy, makes him wonder if everyone else can see it, if Hyunbin can see it too.

As long as he doesn’t speak about it, if both of them continue to act like it’s not there, then maybe it can all just be a passing dream after all.

  
  
  


> _< < your eyes were closed and you were listening to the road and I_
> 
> _could hear your breathing, I_ _coud hear your heart beating. >>_

It’s past seven and Jisung is on the third episode of his bi-yearly Reply 1997 rewatch when there’s a knock at his door. The sound takes him by surprise, because he’s never expecting anyone, and especially not at this hour. It’s not an uncommon thing for Daniel or Sewoon to text and ask him if he wants to go for drinks, sure, but they’ve never gone as far as to actually coming to get him - probably because they’ve learned by now that it’s completely useless.

So Jisung has half a mind to just pretend he’s not here, but the knocking keeps going, and soon he has no choice but to push himself to his feet with a sigh, waving goodbye to Shiwon on his computer screen.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he grumbles under his breath, hand already on the doorknob. When it turns and the door swings open, Jisung thinks he must be seeing things. 

Standing there, leaning against the doorframe with a grin on his face, is Hyunbin, still as unnervingly tall as ever, a hand still up to Jisung’s eye level from all the knocking. “Hey there,” Hyunbin says, his hand falling at his side, eyes trained on Jisung. Suddenly, Jisung is very aware of the decade-old t-shirt he’s wearing, of the way his hair sticks up because he hasn’t bothered with anything today, and of how the air gets stuck in his throat a little when Hyunbin stands straight again, displaying the large plastic bag in his other hand. “I come bearing gifts. For all the times you’ve taken care of me.”

Jisung blinks, once, twice, three times, too fast probably, but he doesn’t realize until after the fact. “How do you even know where I live?” is all he thinks to ask, because he doesn’t recall ever giving Hyunbin even a clue.

“Your pal at the front desk is terrible at keeping secrets,” Hyunbin muses, shifting from one foot to the other in the hallway, and Jisung realizes he’s waiting to be invited in. “I went ‘round today because some of my stitches opened up- nothing serious, don’t worry,” he adds when Jisung feels his instinct taking over and he lurches forward to check the latest of Hyunbin’s injuries. 

It’s probably not a good thing that Jisung remembers exactly where all of them are, red scars and blue bruises on perfect skin. 

“And Sewoon just gave you my personal information because you asked him to.” Jisung tries to get a hold of himself and get back to the real issue. “The little…”

Hyunbin giggles then, and Jisung doesn’t know what to do with the way his breath catches in his throat at the sound. 

“He was clocking out right as I was leaving. Scrubs off and everything, so technically… He didn’t do anything forbidden?” 

Of course, there’s not even a professional reproach to be made. Sewoon is a friend too, after all. Jisung takes a breath and steps to the side, gesturing for Hyunbin to come in. “I guess it can’t be helped then. You came all this way… I hope you brought soju, at least.”

The bag ends up next to Jisung’s laptop on the table, landing with a soft thud and the unmistakable sound of bottles hitting each other, and Hyunbin fishes one out, proudly displays it to the whole room as if there’s anyone else in there but the two of them. “Now, who do you take me for?”

Shiwon and her friends are quickly forgotten, then and there. 

“I would have been offended if you didn’t,” Jisung tries to lighten his own mood. “It is Wednesday night after all.” 

Hyunbin laughs as he steps into the room, the tension that Jisung feels seeming to be completely lost on him. At least one of them will be able to turn this evening into something other than needless confusion.

Truth be told, Jisung appreciates the gesture. He’s touched that Hyunbin thought of him even when he’s not at the clinic, that he wanted to do something nice for all of the times that Jisung took care of him - although Jisung doesn’t think he should be repaid like this for doing his job, but maybe he should admit that Hyunbin is a special case. 

When Hyunbin discards his jacket on the sofa, Jisung can see the scar on his collarbone, from an afternoon months ago. When Hyunbin runs his hand through his hair Jisung is pleasantly surprised to find that he’s thought of replacing the band-aids on his knuckles from that night a week ago, when he’d left bloodstains on Jisung’s brand new scrubs and apologized with a wink. When Hyunbin smiles at him, like nothing in this world can hurt him anymore if he’s here, Jisung remembers all the times he’s pulled Hyunbin back together, all the places where he left his mark in the form of stitches, and he wonders if they’ll ever form a constellation.

“Because Wednesday night is where the party is, we know this,” Hyunbin remarks and he drops down to the floor, his back to the sofa. 

Jisung wants to comment on how easily Hyunbin seems to be making himself at home, but part of that would mean admitting that he doesn’t hate the sight.

Nothing Hyunbin brought screams high cuisine, but it’s good enough for this kind of evening, and Jisung helps himself without needing to be asked. It reminds him of the way he’d sustained himself through college, the various snacks on display making him feel strangely nostalgic. 

“I like your nails,” Jisung remarks as Hyunbin finishes emptying the contents of the bags onto his living room table. “Do they… mean anything?”

The importance of symbolism has never been lost on Jisung, so he’s curious because he’s seen so many ways that people have of making themselves known to the world. 

Hyunbin looks down at his hands for a moment, like he’s forgotten they’re his own. “Ah, this? To be honest,” he smiles that sheepish, almost childlike smile, “I think it’s cool, but I’m not great at taking care of it.”

Judging by how chipped the nail polish is, Jisung thinks he could have probably figured that out on his own, but he appreciates Hyunbin’s innocent honesty as always.

“I just like the way it looks, really.” Hyunbin picks at the skin of his fingers. “I guess people wouldn’t usually expect a guy like me to wear it, so it’s fun to defy that, you know?”

As hard as it is, Jisung tries very hard not to think about what Hyunbin might be implying when he says this. He’s heard that phrase too many times before, wondered what people would expect from ‘guys like him’, if they’d ever be able to look past what they thought he should be.

“I think it’s cute,” is what he says instead, reaching to grab Hyunbin’s hand to stop him from picking his skin raw. “Suits you.”

He wouldn’t say anything he doesn’t mean, and he hopes Hyunbin knows that. Hyunbin just lets Jisung hold his hand, long fingers limp between Jisung’s own, his eyes following every movement.

“Hey, do you maybe uh, want me to paint yours?” Hyunbin asks suddenly, a warm smile spreading across his face and illuminating his features.

Sometimes Jisung thinks Hyunbin is beautiful in all the ways he himself is not, light pouring out from every crack because he isn’t afraid to let himself feel. It makes Jisung’s heart ache in a funny way, one that he can’t quite ignore. It’s still there when Hyunbin rummages through his pockets, empties their contents on the table. Keys, a worn-out leather wallet, crumpled pieces of paper that could be receipts just as much as they could be poems, everything piling up like so many things Jisung wants to learn about him. Finally, with a quiet contented sound, Hyunbin produces a small, black bottle of nail polish from his jacket’s inside pocket, the label almost completely erased from having been carried around seemingly everywhere.

Jisung can’t help but giggle at the sight. “Do you seriously always have it with you?” He reaches to take the bottle from Hyunbin, turns it around between his fingers. “You’d think you’d at least remember to maintain your nails then.” 

He pokes fun, but this is just another one of the many, many things that Jisung finds so terribly endearing about Hyunbin. Sometimes he wonders how Hyunbin can even be a real person, but then Hyunbin laughs, so earnest, and there’s no doubt in Jisung’s mind anymore that he is.

“Hey, I try,” Hyunbin protests gently and takes his nail polish back, a falsely indignant tone coloring his voice. “Give me your hand.”

It’s so easy and natural for Jisung to comply. Hyunbin’s touch is surprisingly delicate, and he takes great care with what he does, tongue darting out in concentration when he begins applying the polish to Jisung’s nails. 

They’re comfortable like this in silence, but Jisung’s curiosity still gets the better of him.

“So how did you meet your crew? They’re straight out of a movie,” he asks as Hyunbin moves from his index to his middle finger. 

Jisung doesn’t want to read too much into anything, but he feels like the atmosphere in the room shifts when he asks, Hyunbin sitting a little straighter, his eyes fixed on a point that Jisung can’t seem to follow.

“It’s er, it’s kind of a long story. A sad one, too. But I think it’s got a happy ending?” Hyunbin inhales, sets his shoulders. “Alright.”

It’s hard not to notice how Hyunbin keeps his eyes solely on Jisung’s hands when he speaks, concentrating on his task like he’s afraid to slip back into memories that are just too painful to entertain. 

“I was… nineteen, barely. It’s weird now that I look back on it, it was only three years ago but it feels like a lifetime,” he says, and the smile that pulls at the corner of his lips is hesitant enough to make Jisung fear the worst. “I’m still not really sure what came over me, why I thought I’d be a good idea, but I told my parents - I told them, about me, about being gay, about… everything. All those things I’d been feeling without knowing what to do with them.”

Jisung tries to swallow around the lump in his throat, but it only makes it worse. 

Hyunbin purses his lips and looks over his work, three of Jisung’s fingernails now an opaque black. “Maybe it was naive and stupid of me but I thought parents were supposed to help you and guide you, right? To make sure you live a happy life?”

The room falls silent for a moment and it’s getting hard to breathe, and Jisung is regretting the question, mentally berating himself for making Hyunbin relive this. Some moments and memories are better left in the past, he should know.

“Instead they told me I had two days to get my stuff and be out the door.” Hyunbin lets out a small, breathy laugh, a defense mechanism, maybe. “Haven’t spoken to either of them since.”

No matter how many times Jisung hears this kind of story, it’ll never fail to stir up the same anger and frustration in him as it always has. “Hyunbin I- I am so, so sorry.” He tries to reach out but his body won’t move, like he’s been pinned to the floor, powerless to do anything to stop what’s already happened. Words get stuck and jumbled in his throat because he doesn’t know what to say, fears that going any of the ways his mind is telling him to will just make things worse for Hyunbin.

“It’s ok,” is what Hyunbin says, and Jisung’s heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach. “I mean if that’s how low they think of me, I’m not particularly interested in having a relationship with them, but… It hurt, at the time. So fucking much.”

Jisung would be inclined to agree, even as much as he likes to preach for forgiveness. 

“So where did you go?” 

Hyunbin licks his lips and resumes painting Jisung’s nails with the same careful concentration. “Anywhere that would have me. There were a few shelters, but the space was limited, so sometimes I’d sleep on doorsteps, in back alleys… Thankfully not that often, but I definitely remember what concrete feels like a little too well.” 

It breaks Jisung’s heart, how casually Hyunbin talks about this. Even if it is all in the past, and everything is better now, the thought of such a gentle person going through such a rough ordeal feels twisted, sick in the cruel way that the universe has of testing the limits of the human soul. The only thing that soothes the ache, even just a little, is knowing that Hyunbin got out of it and never lost an ounce of his spirit.

“I was staying at a shelter when I met Taehyun, actually. Well, to be more accurate, he found me on a street nearby and brought me to the shelter.” Hyunbin giggles like it’s only a cute anecdote about their friendship. “That’s always been kind of how we work, since then. He helps me when I don’t know where to go.”

From the times Jisung has met Taehyun, it’s always been clear that he is that kind of person. He never winced once when Jisung had to pop his shoulder back into place, only faltered a little whenever something or other had to be stitched up, and always made sure his people were being taken care of, even when he could barely stand on his own two legs. It’s almost funny how easy it is to picture him helping Hyunbin off the street, a solid presence to lean on regardless of the slight stature his friends seemingly love to poke fun at.

“He’s a good person, even I know this,” is all Jisung says. 

Hyunbin looks up for the first time since the conversation started and he smiles, truly in earnest this time, his eyes sparkling even in the artificial overhead light. “Sometimes he can seem a little rough to handle, but he’s one of the best people I know. Actually, when we met, he told me he was looking for someone to move stuff around at his bar- well, it’s not actually his, but he’s the acting boss behind the counter.”

“Now that I did not know,” Jisung states the obvious, if only to keep this going, this easier flow of words between them. 

In the time that the atmosphere gradually relaxed, he hadn’t even noticed that Hyunbin was done painting all the nails on one hand. Holding it up to the ceiling, Jisung is reminded of college, endless experimentation that led him every which way until he found himself. It’s not an unpleasant thing to relive, all of a sudden, and he can feel a smile creeping up on his own face to match the one that Hyunbin is now sporting. 

“Ah, it’s a little more than a bar, to be honest.” Hyunbin puts the nail polish bottle away on the table, and he retrieves two beer cans from the bottom of one of the bags he brought, immediately opening his and taking a long swig from it before Jisung can even say thank you. “The building is owned by the community. So we all decide and run the bar together. Everyone gets a say and everyone gets a share.”

Somehow Jisung feels like he should have known all along this was the group’s deal, that it fits them so perfectly there is no way they would have worked in any other way, and yet there’s a warmth spreading through his chest at the thought that a place like that exists, and that Hyunbin has found a spot for himself in it.

He’s not sure what comes over him in that moment, but Jisung feels his ears getting red when he hears himself say it. “Will you bring me there one day?” 

“Anytime.” Hyunbin raises his can and Jisung fumbles to open his own, hiding his embarrassment. “That’s how it happened, really. I wanted to feel useful, and there was someone who needed me… Well not me, specifically, but at the time it felt like fate, you know?” 

Certainly, if such a thing exists, then it worked its elusive magic for Hyunbin that day. Jisung sends a silent thank you up through the ceiling and into the sky. 

“After a few days, Taehyun told me about the apartment building he co-owns,” Hyunbin pauses to take another sip, and Jisung tries to wrap his mind around the both surprising and somehow obvious fact that Taehyun would just be the kind of person to own an apartment building. “And he told me I could stay in the empty studio there, as long as I kept working at the co-op and played my part in the fight, you know? And I mean, I was going to do the latter anyway, it’s just better to be part of a group.”

Jisung thinks of all the cuts and the twisted joints he’d had to bandage up, and refuses to think of how much worse it could have been if Hyunbin had been going it alone. 

“He’s a good dude. I owe him a lot, even if he keeps saying I don’t.” Hyunbin draws his knees up to his chest, rests his chin on them. He looks so small that it feels like the wind blowing outside that night could take him away at any moment. “And I met the others through him too, and those are my best friends now. They’re definitely not the easiest bunch, they’re rough and they’re vindictive but… they’re home, you know?”

Home. That’s a concept Jisung can understand, he thinks, and he smiles at the way Hyunbin uses it.

“So that’s where I am, right now.” Hyunbin rolls the empty can in his hands, like he’s trying to focus on something else. “It’s good though! I’d much rather be there than wherever my parents would have me be, really. It wasn’t… It wasn’t where I belonged, I suppose.”

Jisung throws his head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “As long as you’re happy… You get to choose, you get to decide who you want to be around.”

“I do.” There’s a beat then, Hyunbin setting the can on the table and shifting towards Jisung a bit more, the heat of his body growing closer. “That’s why I’m here.”

It’s not that cold in his apartment but Jisung is shivering, for a reason he carefully chooses to ignore. Hyunbin seems to notice, because he straightens up and takes off his cardigan, throws it around Jisung’s shoulders, and he smiles, content, leaning back against the couch and bringing the can to his lips.

“Wouldn’t want you to get sick.” 

I’m already sick, Jisung thinks. There’s no other explanation for the cold sweat at the back of his neck and for the way his heart is thump-thumping relentlessly against his ribcage.

  
  


“Alright, my turn to ask questions.” Hyunbin shifts, sinking lower across the floor and Jisung has to stifle a laugh. “Tell me something your patients don’t know about you.”

Oh, this is a good one. Jisung knows he could be giving so many different answers, because he doesn’t just go around disclosing every part of his life to random strangers, but he feels like Hyunbin is fishing for something more than his coffee order or his must-have grocery items. So Jisung finishes the drink, amidst Hyunbin’s protests, and he takes a breath, a slight flush already spreading over his face at the thought of telling Hyunbin. 

“I have.. A night job,” he says, throwing his head back. 

Hyunbin hoists himself back up, an inquisitive look on his face. “Is that so? A double life, huh?” and he playfully nudges Jisung’s shoulder. “What could our model nurse possibly be getting up to when the sun goes down?”

Jisung huffs out a laugh, making sure he’s meeting Hyunbin’s eyes when he reveals it. “I dance, at a club downtown.” 

Sure enough, the way Hyunbin’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull and his expression is torn between amazement, glee and disbelief is priceless. Jisung feels a rush of adrenaline just then, something fierce and powerful, taking over his body. 

“No way.” Hyunbin grabs one of the couch cushions and hugs it tight to his chest like he’s trying to hold on to reality. “No fucking way.” 

He keeps his eyes on Jisung, probably trying to figure out if he’s being lied to, but Jisung simply raises his eyebrows and nods, and Hyunbin all but falls the remaining way to the floor, his head hitting the fake wood with a muted thud that shouldn’t make Jisung laugh, and yet he can’t help it.

“Is this real? Can someone pinch me?” The younger man calls from the floor, and Jisung has to oblige, careful not to pick any previously wounded spot on Hyunbin’s arm. “Ow! Okay, you got me, we can end this now because I sure as hell am not going to top this.” He tries to catch his breath, sits up next to Jisung again. “Tell me more.  _ Please _ .”

It’s so surreal, all of this evening, sitting on the floor of his apartment telling his entire life story to a man he barely knows beyond flesh wounds and anecdotes, and yet Jisung keeps talking.

“Burlesque, mostly. I like the drama of it all.” He sweeps his hair out of his face as if to illustrate. “It’s fun to watch men squirm.” In a complete rush of confidence, he winks at Hyunbin, who feigns getting shot through the heart.

A bottle of soju has to be opened before Hyunbin can say anything else. He closes his eyes and toasts silently and Jisung watches him, his antics, a ridiculous boy in a ridiculous situation. “Alright,” Hyunbin says, solemn, after downing half of his glass in one go. “You’re officially the coolest person I know.”

“I’m sure your group of friends would beg to differ.” Jisung takes a sip from his own glass, trying to slow down as he feels a familiar heat creeping up along the back of his neck.

As much as he’s aware that he lives an unusual life, he’s never particularly thought that it makes him interesting. It’s just the way things have been going, something to feed his nurturing streak, and something to reclaim his body, to feel good about the person he almost didn’t get to be. It’s self-serving, maybe, although Jisung doesn’t like to think of himself as selfish, but it works out.

Clearly, though, Hyunbin finds it fascinating. “I mean, you’d probably give Kenta a run for his money.” He raises his glass, knocks back the rest of the alcohol in it. “But for real, I admire you for being able to balance everything.”

At this point, Jisung likes to think the soju is making decisions for him. That’s the only logical, acceptable way to explain why he decides to stand up and jump onto the couch, feet digging into the cushions, a fragile balance that he’s not sure he can maintain for more than the thirty seconds it takes him to twirl around. He raises his arms above his head in a feeble attempt to keep himself upright, and it only works for a second before he feels his heel twisting just enough to slip off the couch.

Thankfully, there’s a pair of arms there to catch him before he brains himself on the coffee table. 

For a moment, he’s breathless and dizzy enough to not care that it’s Hyunbin there, holding him, closer than he’s ever been - closer than he probably should be, if Jisung wants to keep pretending everything is fine. A few seconds later, the two of them fall into a fit of laughter as they’re both safe and sound on the ground.

“Okay, so,” Jisung wipes the corners of his eyes, “I am never doing that again. Don’t know what came over me.”

Hyunbin lets him go, somewhat reluctantly. “I don’t know either but again. Coolest person I’ve ever met.” There’s not a hint of mockery in his voice and Jisung wishes he could hate it, how painfully honest Hyunbin always is, because at least it would make it easier to deny the way his heart twists in his chest every time Hyunbin speaks. It’s the softness of his tone despite how deep his voice is, how carefully he seems to pick each word, like he’s afraid to step over an invisible line, of saying something he might regret. 

“You flatter me.” Jisung nudges him, picks up his glass again. He deserves some comfort now.

Next to him, Hyunbin readjusts himself, aligns their bodies together. “You deserve it.”

Ah, yeah. It’s been a while since Jisung’s heard that, let alone believed it. Maybe he’ll let himself fall for it, just this once. It’s so easy when Hyunbin is the one saying it, because Jisung thinks he’s not capable of lying, wouldn’t ever want to hurt another person like this. The concept of deserving anything good is something that often feels foreign to Jisung. He’s tried to grasp it, claim it so often, only for everything to slip through his fingers.

Maybe this time it doesn’t have to, and there’s something to be found instead of getting lost in his own thoughts.

“Maybe.” His eyes wander in dangerous, unmarked territory, and he’s clearly not being as subtle as he thinks he is. 

It takes two to play that game, and Hyunbin twists his upper body so he can size Jisung up too, the oxygen getting sparse when he does. “Definitely.”

Hyunbin kisses like he lives, Jisung thinks, hungrily and clumsily, but sincere above all, his entire body moving with it like he’s trying to make a point. It’s so entrancing, like everything else about him, and Jisung can’t help it when he kisses back, pushing himself up against Hyunbin until there’s no space left, his hand fisted in the front of Hyunbin’s shirt. 

His lungs feel like they’re about to catch on fire, but it’s only a matter of seconds before the adrenaline runs out, and there’s that feeling again, acidic and corrosive, and Jisung feels himself pushing Hyunbin away when his heart is aching to pull him closer.

He throws a cloth over the fire, silences the longing.

“I think you should go.” Jisung hears himself say it, and he keeps talking so he doesn’t have time to hate himself for it. “This isn’t… It’s not for us. Not right now.”

Not ever, but that’s Jisung’s burden to bear. 

There’s confusion written all over Hyunbin’s face, his lips still wet and red, his eyes searching for a reason in Jisung’s expression, in his movements. So Jisung stays as still as he can, tries to not plunge his own hand through his chest to quiet the beating. 

“Did I do something wrong-” Hyunbin starts, and the way his voice cracks a little even though he’s trying so hard makes Jisung want to disappear into the ground.

“It’s not that, it’s not- we shouldn’t, ok? It’s better this way, trust me, you’ll be better off this way.”

He can tell Hyunbin is going to protest again. He can tell, and he hates it, and he hates himself for not being able to accept this, to let these feelings in, to let himself go. Jisung shakes his head at Hyunbin when the younger man opens his mouth to speak, and he takes him by the arm and leads him to the door, barely giving Hyunbin time to grab his jacket.

The more this drags on, the more Jisung fears that he’ll regret it.

“Thank you for the food,” Jisung doesn’t look at Hyunbin. He doesn’t feel like he has the right to. “And the booze. And this.” He pulls Hyunbin’s cardigan off, hands it over to him. “Please go home. Be safe, don’t get into trouble, ok? Just go home and sleep. You’ll understand, by tomorrow morning, you’ll realize this isn’t what you want.”

To Jisung’s surprise, Hyunbin doesn’t say anything. He simply takes a step back, over the threshold, into the corridor, and he stays there until Jisung closes the door, and then he’s out of sight.

In that moment, Jisung desperately wishes the saying were true.

>   
>    
>  _< < The world doesn't know _
> 
> _what to do with my love._ _Because it isn't used to_
> 
> _being loved._ _It's a framework problem. >>_

In all honesty, Jisung has been waiting for this.

Ever since he’s met the kid, watching him grow and learn has been one of the purest joys of his life, and if he’s been a little too paternal, well, no one has complained about it quite yet. Daniel still periodically goes on tangents about how he wouldn’t have been able to help as much as Jisung does, and Jisung just smiles and nods and says it’s ok, even though he knows Daniel did as much as he could with what he had, and that it was already so much more than so many others do. 

Still, Jisung would be lying if he said he doesn’t take some pride in this, in being someone he wishes he’d had, at that age. So right on time, he’s already at the door waiting when Daehwi walks in.

“Ready for it?” he calls, linking his hands together close to his chest. “It’s going to make everything much easier, I promise.”

Daehwi smiles, with that air of mischief that seems to be ever-present in his features, but genuine all the same. “I can’t wait to finally tell Daniel he’s no longer useful to me,” and then he cracks up when Jisung cocks his head disapprovingly. “No jokes today, huh?”

“Your brother may be a clueless fool sometimes,” Jisung slings an arm over Daehwi’s shoulder to greet him, ruffling his hair in the process. “but he’s done everything with good intentions, don’t forget that.”

He keeps a tight grip on Daehwi for approximately half a second before the boy groans and pushes him away, tries to fix his hair in the reflection of the glass counter. “I know, I know. And I love him for that, but also he’s not even home half the time these days, so.”

Jisung tries to weigh how happy he is that Daniel is making the most of his relationship and how horrified he is that Daehwi is left to his own devices so often, until he remembers that Daehwi has always been the most functioning brother out of the two, and that he is, in fact, seventeen years old, and not seven like Daniel often seems to think. 

“A much as I’d like to gossip about your brother’s love life,” Jisung takes Daehwi by the wrist, leads him into one of the rooms. “we’ve got more important things to do. Like helping you take your life into your own hands.” He can’t help the grin that spread across his face when he says this and Daehwi hops onto the bench, retrieving the blue box from his bag. 

Over the years, Jisung has done this so many times that he’s lost count, for himself or for others, but somehow it’s different to guide Daehwi’s hand to it, watch as the young man carefully navigates the needle and the sting, his face screwed up in concentration. He thinks of all the things that still await Daehwi and his eyes water a little as he watches Daehwi do everything right, taking a new step towards himself. 

“And that’s it! You got it.” he says, disposing of the needle and handing Daehwi a band-aid. “Looks like you don’t need me anymore either.”

It’s cute, how Daehwi preens a little, feigns flipping his hair back as he stands up to shake the stiffness out of his body. There’s a certain grace in him that Jisung admires, because he can’t remember being that comfortable with himself at that age. 

“Other people will.” Daehwi smiles, squeezes Jisung’s shoulder with one hand, the other resting on his hip like he’s giving him a lesson. Sometimes Jisung forgets who’s the teenager and who’s the adult here. “You okay, though?” Daewhi sits back on the bench, head tilted in thought. “You don’t really… seem like yourself today.”

Oh.

Jisung thought he’d been doing a good job at hiding it. “What do you mean?”

“Well first of all,” Daehwi holds up a finger, “You never miss an opportunity to gossip about Niel’s love life.” He giggles but his expression drops suddenly, eyes fixed on Jisung, and there’s nowhere to go. “And you’re lost in thought, I can tell. I’ve known you long enough now, you know. You’re not the only one who notices things.”

There’s times when Jisung is proud of Daehwi, truly, for how gracefully he handled how fast he had to grow up. But he’s so damn mature and insightful, and it all comes to hit Jisung in the face at full speed when he least expects it. He doesn’t like this, being put on the spot by a teenager who’s already seeing right through him. But he’d be lying if he said it hasn’t been weighing on his heart for days.

So he sits next to Daehwi and he tells him everything. The boy in the waiting room and his bruised bones and his hungry heart, how he stays on Jisung’s mind long after he’s gone, leaves him counting bruises and stars. He tells Daehwi about the soju and the cardigan and Hyunbin’s smile, how he’d looked in the dimmed light, like he’s too precious for this world to even comprehend. He even tells Daehwi about the kiss, and the aftermath, and about Hyunbin’s eyes and how their image is burned into Jisung’s mind. 

All the while, Daehwi listens, and he nods, and when Jisung is finally done, he exhales and clears his throat like he’s about to unlock the answer to the universe.

“I mean… You’ve got it bad for this guy, huh?” he finally says, solemn. “And it sounds like he likes you too, but somehow… You’re not ready for that.”

Jisung scoffs at that. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He says it without thinking, because the idea that Hyunbin might have anything more than a passing interest isn’t one that he’s ready to entertain quite yet.

It’s been a while since Jisung has felt so helpless in front of a high schooler. Ten whole years, actually, and he tries not to think about their age gap when Daehwi is so clearly exposing to him all the things he’d tried to push back down. 

“You know, you’re always telling people how their life is theirs to make, and how amazing and worthy of love we all are, but...” Daehwi takes a breath, and Jisung can feel the shot coming before it’s even been fired. “You don’t ever seem to think that same way about yourself.”

Big news. Jisung digs his nails into his palms to try and keep the shame at bay, but Daehwi doesn’t let him retreat. 

“I know it’s scary. But wouldn’t you rather try and fail, than keep wondering what could happen?” 

Jisung exhales, looks up at the ceiling. “Man, when did you get so wise?”

_ And when did I get so helpless, _ he thinks, but that’s too damning to say out loud right now.

“Someone gave me advice, and I followed it.” Daehwi’s tone is sharp but there’s still that unshakable kindness in his eyes. “You should try.”

Maybe Jisung deserves this. Maybe he’s really being stupid and stubborn enough to deserve being scolded by a seventeen-year-old, to have all the truth he’s tried to deny shoved right back in his face. He knows Daehwi’s right, that there’s only one way this should go, but Jisung can’t shut down the voice at the back of his head telling him it’s all a lost cause anyway. 

“I will.”  _ Don’t make promises you’re not sure you can keep _ . “I- I’ll try.”

Strangely, Daehwi seems to be satisfied with that answer, because he smiles at Jisung and bumps their foreheads together softly. For now it’s enough for Jisung to know that at least someone still believes in him.

  
  
  


Everything is still lingering on Jisung’s mind when he gets to the club that evening, busy bodies running across the floor to get everything ready for the night. Winter never deters any of their regulars, so there will be plenty of action to get his mind off things, Jisung hopes.

Wishful thinking is more like it, but he tries not to dwell on that.

He probably should have seen it coming, but the moment he steps into the dressing room, Daniel calls for him to sit at their station, a sympathetic look in his eyes like he’s already been briefed on the situation.

Sure enough, as soon as Jisung is seated, Daniel pulls him into a hug. “Daehwi told me you’re not feeling too good,” he says, only genuine compassion in his voice. “Didn’t elaborate, but he said you might need this.” 

He tightens his arms around Jisung as if to emphasize his point, and Jisung just lets himself stay there for a beat, his eyes falling shut of their own accord. It takes him another second to open them when Daniel pulls away from him, holding Jisung at arm’s length like he’s trying to size him up, to understand things he hasn’t even been told yet.

“Thank you,” Jisung mutters, tries to conjure up his best smile although he already knows he’s not fooling anyone. “What ever would I do without you two in my life.”

Daniel tilts his head and pouts. “Hey, don’t try this right now. If something’s wrong you know you can talk to me, yeah?” He gives Jisung a firm nod to punctuate his words. “You’ve helped us enough times that it’s only fair we try to return the favor.”

Put it like that, of course it’s logical that Daniel would think that way. He’s pure and earnest to a fault, and he hasn’t always been dealt the best or easiest cards in life, so Jisung has always tried to set him on an easier path, to advise him when Daniel felt confused or stuck or unsure of where to go. It’s worked out pretty well, all things considered - but he’s never been bold enough to expect that anyone should do the same for him.

He’s been handling his life well enough so far, no one needs to trouble themselves trying to do it for him.

“Don’t you have more important things to worry about?” Jisung isn’t sure why he’s still trying to deflect the conversation, when it’s very clear in the way Daniel is looking at him that he’s not going to let this go until he gets a word in.

At the next table over, Jaehwan stops his preparations and leans back in his chair. “You’re talking to a man who wasn’t sure whether he should date a millionaire,” he says, not bothering to look in their direction. “Wouldn’t bet that he gives the best advice out there.”

“Talking a big game for a guy with only one eyebrow on,” Minhyun interjects, and Jaehwan raises his one painted eyebrow in outrage. 

Jaehwan’s mouth falls open at that, and though Jisung doesn’t take offense, because he wouldn’t be too far from agreeing, he still laughs at the typical absurdity of the situation. 

“I’m starting a trend.” Jaehwan starts, waving his eyebrow pencil around. “Jisung, you beautiful tropical fish, you know I love you-”

“I do.” Jisung blows him a kiss and Jaehwan catches it in mid-air before he continues.

“But if your issue is at all related to boy problems, I am really not sure we’re the best people to go to.”

There’s some sense in what Jaehwan says, because Jisung knows that all the people in this room have had their fair share of complicated and sometimes dubious relationships - what does Mr. Lee Minhyuk want from Jaehwan, exactly? Sometimes Jisung reasons that it’s for the both of them to know and the rest of the world to hopefully never find out. But he also knows that if he’s going to trust anyone with anything even remotely personal, it might as well be them, because they’re the least likely people to judge him for it.

“I mean I wouldn’t go to you, specifically,” Jisung teases, and Jaehwan feigns fainting from the offense, “but I do trust you guys more than like, ninety percent of other people.” He wrings his hands in his lap, carefully tries to avoid the way that Daniel is trying to get him to look. “I’m just not sure it’s worth worrying about. Probably just me making a mountain out of nothing.”

Daniel sighs, and if Jisung didn’t know him as well as he does he’d almost think the younger man sound exasperated with him. “Will you please just let other people care about you for once?”

The breath is knocked out of Jisung’s lungs for a moment, his body suddenly feeling as heavy as his mind. He sags against the back of his chair, hands still tangled in a pitiful attempt to anchor himself, but there’s something burning at the back of his throat and bubbling in the corners of his eyes that he can’t ignore. So he takes a breath, and tries to avoid his own reflection in the mirror as he speaks.

No matter how many times he recounts the story, turns it over in his head to try and make sense of the events and the feelings involved, it still gnaws at him like there’s unfinished business that he’s putting off, unsaid words that he just can’t quite bring himself to acknowledge. He runs Daniel through the events of the night, and everything that led them there, and just like his brother earlier, Daniel listens, lips pursed in concentration like he’s afraid he’s going to miss some crucial details that Jisung isn’t even sure he fully remembers.

“I don’t know why I just… pushed him out the door.” Jisung lifts his head to try and search for oxygen. “There was something telling me, ‘this isn’t going to end well, you’re going to regret this’, but I was also feeling like-”

Daniel raises both eyebrows in expectation. “Like what?”

“Like I had never wanted anything more in my life.” Or anyone, for that matter, but maybe some things are better left for Jisung to go over them first, before telling anyone else. “And yet I still chased him away because I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were just set up for failure.” 

Jisung feels himself deflating, like some pressure valve had opened in him and released all the steam he’d been building up just below his ribs. He’s not sure if talking about it again made him feel any better, but at least Daniel doesn’t seem to be judging him for any of it. 

On their side of the room, Jaehwan is uncharacteristically silent, and Minhyun simply nods a few times, eyes fixed on the floor, no doubt simply expressing sympathy in his own way. Jisung appreciates it more than he could say, because he’s not sure he could handle much more input on the situation than what he already knows is coming from Daniel.

“Okay,” Daniel breathes, gathering his thoughts. “But how can you know, though? How can you deny yourself something just because you think it’s not going to work out?” He’s speaking carefully, tries to navigate the heavy atmosphere in the room. “Sure there’s always a possibility that things might go wrong, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea to not even try.”

He’s making sense, Jisung knows that. Which is probably why it’s also so hard to hear, because it’s so much easier to take refuge in his own comfortable preconceptions.

“I know it sounds cheesy, but you’ll never know if you never give this a try. Clearly you really… you really fell for this guy.”

Jisung exhales shakily. “You got that right.”

To say he fell is an understatement. That’s the scary part, not knowing if there’s anything to cushion it. Not knowing if he can get back up.

“Obviously, I’m not going to tell you how to live your life.” Daniel keeps his tone even, and Jisung even thinks he’s trying to be reassuring, which he can only be grateful for. “But the last time one of us took a gamble on something like this… Well, I’d say it turned out pretty well, yeah?”

That’s one thing Jisung can’t deny, even with all the effort he’s putting into it. It had only been a few months since Daniel had met his starstruck admirer turned doting boyfriend, and yet it seemed like he and Jiho fell into each other so naturally, finding a balance between the two of them despite their uncertain start. Whatever part he’d played in that, Jisung just enjoys watching it from afar now, safe in the knowledge that he’s not needed there anymore.

Maybe that’s the problem.

“Sure did,” he acquiesces, because there’s no point or truth in saying anything else. 

Daniel takes Jisung’s hand in his then, stopping the nervous motions. “Listen… I’m not going to order you around, or tell you what to do. But you deserve to let yourself have this, man.” There’s a quiet sort of sympathy in the way he speaks, and Jisung welcomes it. “If you think it’s worth a shot, if it’s- if he’s really what you want… Why not follow your own advice? ” 

Ah, there it is. The brothers may be different but they’re alike in the barest essentials, in their sincere bluntness. If he thinks about this rationally, Jisung knows they’re both right, too. He won’t get anywhere if he doesn’t at least give himself a chance, give Hyunbin a chance, give whatever this can be the time and care and maybe even the love it needs to bloom into itself. But he’s thrown away his rationality around the same time that he threw Hyunbin out of his apartment, fear taking over everything, and he’s trying to tear it away, to rip its veil off from over his eyes, but it’s never that easy.

Jisung feels Daniel squeezing his hand and he flashes back into the moment, takes a deep breath to try and compose himself. “Maybe so. Let’s see what the night has to say about it.”

It’s always easier to free his mind when the music gets louder and the lights flood even the darkest corners of the room.

  
  


Jisung walks home that night.

He needs the cold, open air to clear his mind as much as possible, even with the fog still lingering on the edges, ready to cover everything at a moment’s notice. He needs the walk, the half-hour on his own, free of the distractions of public transport. It’s easier to focus on his own thoughts when he’s not sitting on a night bus and watching other people, wondering where they’re coming from, where they’re going, if any of them might need his help too. The streets are usually empty at this time, there’s no nameless face to make him ask questions he doesn’t need the answers to, no one to cross paths with who might be a welcome distraction.

Being alone with his thoughts isn’t something he likes, but he knows it’s something he has to do before he closes himself off to them.

Daniel’s words had been echoing in his mind the entire evening, how he’d said Jisung ‘deserves’ this, how he’d seemed so sure that there was something good that would come out of this, surely, because everyone finds their place in the end. In his life, Jisung has never been less sure of anything.

He’s still replaying the conversation when he pushes his apartment door open, stepping inside and taking in how empty it feels.

How empty it’s felt for the past few days.

It’s laughable, really, how much Jisung misses something that was never really is. But he can’t deny how good and comfortable and easy it felt to be sitting there with Hyunbin, baring their hearts out to each other without a care in the world, the two of them in a bubble that burst ever so quickly.

“And whose fault is that,” Jisung scolds himself out loud as he throws his jacket over the back of the couch, letting himself fall on the cushions in a continuous motion.

He’s not sure how long he lies there, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of himself. 

The good genie, the friend who always, always gives everyone advice on how to get their lives in order, to get what they want, to find some semblance of happiness in whatever this world has to offer. He likes it well enough, watching the people he loves do well for themselves. 

There’s just that bitter aftertaste, always, when he can’t quite manage to do that for himself, that all of that is all he’ll ever be. That there will always be something better, someone better for others to have in their lives. He doesn’t resent them, tries not to. He’s never felt that particular way about Daniel that he does about Hyunbin, but it still feels strange that the younger man doesn’t come to him quite as often, doesn’t seem to need his guidance quite as much anymore. 

He’s served his purpose, big deal. 

But the fear that the same might happen with Hyunbin is something that he hasn’t been able to shake. What are the odds, really, that Hyunbin will just get what he needs from Jisung, without even really looking for it. Jisung is ready to give Hyunbin everything he can ever ask for, but then he could just up and leave, when he realizes there are better options out there. A better life to live, and Jisung isn’t in it, because he’ll never really be the best thing going in anyone’s life.

Sometimes he’s content with just that. 

And sometimes it makes Jisung want to lock himself away, because he feels so selfish for just wanting to be wanted.

He rolls on his side to face the back of the couch, just to try and stop himself from screaming. “Get over yourself.” His words are muffled against the padding even though he feels like he really needs to hear them. 

Everytime he tries to think about his life, about the place of love in the canvas of his existence, he also hears something else.

_ 'You're not meant to be loved'  _

He remembers those words like it was yesterday, uttered by a first love turned tormentor, who'd looked at him with such disdain when Jisung had opened his heart and told him his truth. Someone who couldn't let go of who he thought Jisung was, refused to accept the person he'd grow to be, who refused to look past skin and flesh and whose words cut Jisung to the bone. 

In moments like this it makes Jisung want to reach inside his chest and rip out the remnants of his heart when he wonders if those words were true. Maybe he’s not meant to be loved, just a freak in sheep’s clothing, desperately looking for his validation through other people but not strong enough to go get it for himself. Maybe he doesn’t want to let anyone uncover his feelings and get under his skin because eventually they all realize that he’s not worth the shot in the dark. 

Deep down he still has enough hope stored away somewhere to try and convince himself that this too shall pass. He wraps his arms around himself, curls up tight around that hope, and tries to find sleep.

>   
>    
>  _< < Cut me open and the light streams out._
> 
> _Stitch me up and the light keeps streaming out between_
> 
> _the stitches. >>_

In hindsight, Jisung should have known he couldn’t run from Hyunbin forever. He should have known the group were bound to come back, because they have a penchant for trouble and a direct path to the clinic’s front desk on any given day.

And yet he still feels his heart jumping in his throat and getting stuck there when he hears the front door open, and lifts his eyes from the file he’s reading to see Taehyun walking in, visibly limping, the rest of his band of heroes in training following suit. Sanggyun is sporting the most spectacular black eye Jisung has ever seen but he still manages to spot Jisung, and nudges Hyunbin to make things worse. And Jisung is still standing there, and he’s pretty sure his mouth is open, but he feels frozen in place.

“Want me to take this?” Eunki siddles up to him, and for a moment, Jisung honestly considers telling him yes.

But before he can, Kenta and Donghan grab Taehyun by the waist and help him walk towards Eunki, hurriedly saying something about urgent care, and Eunki is only a little too happy to oblige them.

Which leaves Jisung to pick himself up and force himself to remember that he is in fact an adult man and not a lovestruck pre-teen, and he can handle this, probably, if he tries really hard to not think about that night and all the progress he’s pretty sure he hasn’t made since then.

Luckily, Hyunbin seems to pick up some of the signs, because he takes the first step. “I’m not as bad as the others, for a change.” He still frowns when he touches his ribs. “Mind taking a look?”

In that moment, Jisung thanks his instincts for not letting him completely lose it. He takes a breath and goes back into his work mindset, beckoning Hyunbin forward with one hand as he takes his file with the other, finally noticing that Sewoon has been wordlessly handing it to him for a solid minute.

“You know the way,” is all Jisung manages to say to Sewoon, gripping the edge of the desk in what he hopes is a convincing manner as he steps aside to let Hyunbin walk into the cubicle. “This is all your fault.” 

Sewoon smacks his lips and keeps typing away. “I don’t even know what happened.” He pivots in his chair to grab the day’s files from the printer as it spits them out. “But you are so welcome.” 

It’s no use arguing with Sewoon anyway, because whatever goes on in his head is only ever understood by him and him alone, but Jisung makes his own mental file to settle things with him when this is done. 

If he gets through it in one piece, that is. Right now it’s not looking so good, even though he tries to put his game face on before joining Hyunbin.

“So, what is it this time?” Jisung cuts right to the chase, but doesn’t miss the way Hyunbin follows his every movement.

Hyunbin takes his jacket off with visible difficulty. “Well I’ve never personally been run over by a truck,” he cautiously places a hand over his side, hovering just millimeters above his ribs. “But I imagine it feels kind of like that? Somehow?”

“That bad?” Jisung winces, motions for Hyunbin to remove his hands so he can begin examining the wound. 

He lifts Hyunbin’s shirt carefully, and he probably shouldn’t be surprised to find a tattoo sprawling from his hipbone to his ribcage, black ink jetting across Hyunbin’s skin. Beneath, Jisung sees a bruise developing, purple and yellows meddling together, so dark in places already it’s hard to distinguish from the tattoo. 

Sometimes it doesn’t strike Jisung exactly just how much this is the reality of Hyunbin’s life, because he sees so many injuries in a day. And sometimes, it does.

“Goodness,” he hears himself whispering, tentatively pressing his fingertips across the bruise. 

Understandably, Hyunbin groans at the touch, his jaw locking, and Jisung is pretty sure he can hear Hyunbin gritting his teeth. 

“Sorry.”

Hyunbin shakes his head and takes a shaky breath. “It’s fine. Gotta do your job, right?”

No denying that. So Jisung does, examines Hyunbin to the best of his abilities, careful not to aggravate the pain, and Hyunbin sits as still as he can, only his increasingly scattered breathing as a sign that he’s still enduring. 

“I’m going to be honest, it might not look like it but you actually got off fairly well.” Jisung sits back and tries to sound as detached as possible. “It’s a nasty bruise, but your ribs aren’t broken. The worst you’re looking at is a possible crack, and all you can do is wait it out and let it heal.”

Hyunbin frowns as he pulls his shirt back down. “So… no field action?”

The goddamn nerve.

“Not for another two weeks at the very least, no.” Jisung resists the urge to whack Hyunbin with a clipboard for his recklessness.

To no one’s surprise, Hyunbin just smiles, tongue darting between his lips for a second as a last ditch show of defiance. “I’m fucking with you,” he says, as if it wasn’t obvious, as if Jisung’s heart needed any more reasons to be twisting in his chest. “So are we going to address the real issue like, ever? At all?”

Would it be weird if Jisung just left the room, ran out of the clinic’s door, and never came back? Would that be something people would hold against him? Because that’s exactly what he wants to do right now, when he lifts his head and sees that Hyunbin’s expression has shifted into something more serious, that same half-hearted hope in his eyes that Jisung has seen that night. The one that doesn’t want to hold on to tight, but refuses to let go.

“I-” Jisung doesn’t even know where to start. “I’m sorry.” Maybe that’s enough. 

Hyunbin’s features soften slightly, a sympathetic smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “Hey, it’s ok. We all feel our feelings differently, yeah?” He sounds like he’s trying to tone down the situation, and Jisung can only be silently grateful for that. “I guess I should have read the room better.”

That’s the thing that doesn’t make sense still, in Jisung’s mind. In that moment, when he met Hyunbin there in that space where nothing else could intrude for a moment, he knew what he wanted. He’d wanted that kiss, he’d wanted that closeness, that warmth and that heat, he’d wanted all of it and yet here is Hyunbin thinking that he’d made a wrong move.

“That’s not… you don’t have anything to blame yourself for.” Jisung feels out of breath, like it’s taking more effort than it should to get the words out. 

He doesn’t ever want Hyunbin to think he’s responsible for Jisung’s feelings, for how stunted and messed up he is. That’s not something anyone else should have to bear for themselves. 

Still Hyunbin places his hand on Jisung’s shoulder, tentative and tender, a reassuring gesture that lets Jisung know that maybe, despite everything, they can be alright like this.

“I feel like there’s more to it but,” Hyunbin exhales sharply, “I’m glad we could smooth it out, at least. Are we good?”

That’s the million won question, isn’t it. 

But Jisung isn’t about to ruin what has barely been rekindled, so he just nods and conjures up his best smile. “We are. We’re good.”

He’s got nothing on the grin that lights up Hyunbin’s face then, taking over his features and nearly making Jisung’s heart stop-start like a car engine. It feels good to see that smile again.

“Let’s drink to it then. Four days from now, there’s a show at the co-op.” Hyunbin fishes around in his jean pocket and retrieves a crumpled up flyer, discolored in places but still readable. 

Jisung squints trying to recognize the person on it, dolled up to the high heavens, and his jaw nearly drops to the floor when he does. “Is that _ Kenta _ ?”

“Our very own.” Hyunbin confirms proudly. “Every two weeks, big show for him, and us. It’s good fun, you should come.”

Hard as he tries for the next few seconds, Jisung can’t find a single reason to say no. It is a little nerve-wracking, to think about stepping into Hyunbin’s territory for a change, but maybe this is something he has to do if he ever wants to be able to reason with himself and his feelings.

He folds the flyer as neatly as he can and slides it into the pocket of his scrubs. “Deal. But you have to promise me you’ll be good and take care. No lifting heavy objects, no getting into fights.” He tries to find a little bit of his professional authority back, but Hyunbin reads him like an open book.

“For you? Anything.”

It keeps replaying in Jisung’s head long after he’s sent Hyunbin home.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“So, this is where you spend your nights?” Jisung half-shouts over the ambient noise, music and chatter filling his ears before he can really catch Hyunbin’s answer. 

The place is small, definitely tiny compared to the club Jisung is used to, worn out wooden floors and rough cobblestone walls making up most of its frame, a parade of neon lights gleaming around and above the crowd. Jisung is so enthralled by the vision he almost doesn’t notice when Hyunbin grabs his hand and leads him to the bar, where between a busy line of patrons Jisung can see a familiar silhouette, expert hands navigating orders and handing out change in a seemingly unstopping motion. 

People know Hyunbin here, this is his turf, and Jisung watches as they joyfully greet him, one by one, some of them squeezing closer together to create a space for the two of them to fit in. “Hey boss!” Hyunbin calls, a grin stretching across his lips when he nearly gets whipped in the face by a handkerchief. 

“I told you not to call me that.” Taehyun wipes his hands on the cloth instead and then tucks it into his back pocket, cocking an eyebrow when he notices Jisung. “Oh, well. This was always going to happen.”

There’s a part of Jisung screaming at him to ask Taehyun exactly what he means by that, but there’s another, knocking at the back of his skull, that tells him he would probably be too embarrassed to hear the answer. 

In a stroke of luck, Taehyun doesn’t press the matter further. “What can I get you two?” he asks instead, quickly serving up the two beers that Hyunbin asks for. “You’re on time for once, Kenta’s on in an hour.” 

“I think you mean the star of the evening, Rikimu?” a voice calls, and Jisung follows it to find Kenta, his cheekbone still red beneath the stitches, posing in the doorway draped in a robe, his hair pinned tightly to his scalp. “How am I supposed to keep the mystique alive when you do this?”

Taehyun chuckles and downs a shot. “Oh we’re doing a magic show now?”

Ignoring him, Kenta marches to where Hyunbin is sitting and plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek, smiling from ear to ear when he turns to Jisung. “I heard we have a special guest in attendance tonight, so I thought I’d say hello.” He taps two fingers on the bartop and Taehyun slides a shot glass over to him. “It’s so nice to see you out of those god awful scrubs.” he smiles at Jisung. “Hope I can heal your soul the same way you healed my twisted ankle last time.”

There’s something eerie in how casually Kenta can talk about this, like there’s no resentment or pain left in him anymore. Jisung credits it to the atmosphere of the place, because even after being here for such a short amount of time he can feel the warmth seeping through every patron, every light, every bit of conversation he overhears. He’s never been here before and yet it feels safe, safer than most places, like the universe aligned for these people here for once, instead of throwing them off axis. 

So he smiles back at Kenta, raises his glass. “I can’t wait. And I will be taking notes.”

“Ooh, getting frisky are we?” Kenta bumps his empty shot glass against Jisung’s and blows a kiss. “Alright, I’m going to go put on my war paint,” he quips, and then he disappears back where he came from in a flurry of color and lace.

Hyunbin laughs into his beer, takes a swig. “I can’t believe this guy.” 

“Well this guy kept our lights on last month, so be grateful.” Taehyun flicks Hyunbin’s forehead and then he gestures across the bar to some waiting patrons, grabbing empty glasses on his way to take their orders. 

Jisung can’t help but sneak a look up and down at Taehyun, trying to scan for any sign of pain or discomfort. He’s not sure if Taehyun truly doesn’t feel anything, or if it’s simply that he doesn’t want to let it show in front of the people who count on him the most, but there’s still a pinch of bitterness in Jisung’s heart at the fact that he has to worry about it even tonight, even in this place. 

“Hey man.” Sure enough, when Taehyun comes back to their side of the bar, it’s to snap Jisung out of his morose thoughts. “I’m ok, don’t worry. It’s not the first time I come to work fresh out of a fight, won’t be the last, and it’ll keep going as long as we have to. But this is the one place where we know we’ll always win.” he’s pouring Jisung another drink as he says it, some minty cocktail that washes down easily as Jisung takes a long swig of it to try and calm his racing mind. “I know it’s easy to feel bad about us, especially when you’ve seen us at our worst, but trust me. In here, we win.”

It’s such simple words but it’s all in the way Taehyun says them, confidence seeping through every part of him, the way he stands looking out at the crowd, something glinting in his eyes that Jisung can relate to. 

The room fills up little by little, some people Jisung thinks he’s already met, at rallies and support groups or maybe in another life, some point in time where everything fell into place exactly like this. Next to him, Hyunbin is listening intently, smiling at the two of them. 

Jisung takes a breath and lifts his drink, feels his heartbeat slow down into a comfortable pace once again. “I’ll drink to that, then. To us.” 

Taehyun shoots him a pleased smile and fills three shot glasses, pushing two of them towards Jisung and Hyunbin. The offering is quickly accepted and Hyunbin moves to knock their glasses together, cheering loudly.

“To home,” he says, knocking back the alcohol. A frown takes over his face as he exhales, and he points the glass at Taehyun. “Jesus, did you distill this yourself, what the fuck?” 

Laughter bubbles up in Jisung’s throat despite the burn, and it explodes when Taehyun shrugs Hyunbin off, serves him another shot instead. “Best kind of anaesthetic, bet you don’t even have that in your supply kit.” He waves the bottle in front of Jisung’s face, and the fact that’s there’s no label is probably a bad sign but Jisung hands his shot glass over anyway. 

“Maybe not,” and then he knocks the shot back, before he can think twice about it. Hyunbin follows suit, and the two of them slam their glasses back down on the counter, making Taehyun’s eyes bulge out of his skull just enough for Jisung to qualify it as revenge taken. “Might have to start thinking about it though, my god.” 

Taehyun clicks his tongue and retrieves the glasses, eyes shifting from Jisung to Hyunbin and back again. “Alright, back to normal drinks for you two, before you ransack my entire bar.”

  
  
  


“Anyone else I should be looking out for in tonight’s show?” Jisung asks as the lights go dim and Sanggyun walks out on stage, taps into the mic.

Hyunbin gives him a thumbs up and turns to Jisung. “Nah, nights like these Kenta- sorry  _ Rikimu  _ is the star attraction.” He smiles around the rim of his beer glass. “Unless you consider Sanggyun inevitably having a fight with the smoke machine and losing to be part of the show, then yeah, expect that.”

That doesn’t seem too bad as far as entertainment goes, Jisung thinks. He doesn’t have time to ponder about the logistics before the lights in the room go dim and the crowd starts rumbling, erupting into cheers when the music starts.

Maybe Jisung should have actually brought something with him to take notes. As soon as Kenta takes to the stage, it’s like he’s a different person entirely - and it’s not just the makeup, applied so cleanly and rigorously that Jisung can see every fake lash and every gemstone from his seat at the bar, or the lace, or the hair cascading down Kenta’s back like a meteor shower. It’s in the way Kenta walks, like nothing can touch him, like nothing can hurt him anymore, the sorrows of the world long forgotten, the song booming through the speakers drowning out any worry and any doubt. 

He’s still staring, mesmerized, when Hyunbin takes him by the hand and navigates through the crowd to get a spot closer to the stage, two empty seats to the left of where Kenta is strutting and twirling, a vision in light and blazing color. A quick look to the back of the stage and Jisung sees Sanggyun standing there, mumbling along, eyes fixed on his partner. He doesn't look as bad as Jisung feared, the purple bruise around his eye already noticeably faded, and if he’s in pain, there’s not a hint of it on his face. A glance to the right and there’s the crowd, entertained and enthralled, no hint of fear on their faces. And up there, greeting the world with his usual defiance, is Kenta, and he’s a symbol. 

So, Jisung loses himself for once. He sways to the music, feels Hyunbin next to him, and he wonders if his heart is beating on the same rhythm, if he’s feeling the same freedom. 

His attention is pulled from the younger man when Kenta walks up to their side of the stage, and down the steps, balanced on the highest heels Jisung has ever seen.

(Jaehwan would definitely be jealous that he’s being upstaged like this, if he were here. So Jisung takes care of making a special note to tell him about them, of course.)

Then before Jisung can finish his thought, he’s got a lapful of Kenta, who loops his arm around Jisung’s shoulder before dramatically falling back as the song’s beat drops. This gathers a raucous round of applause and cheers from the entire room, but especially from Hyunbin, who is positively giddy with the excitement of it all, and his smile makes Jisung’s heart feel like a ticking time bomb. 

On his way back up, Kenta leans in and gives Jisung a kiss on the cheek and a wink, “for good luck, darling.” 

A lipstick mark as a lucky charm, that’s a first, but Jisung is ready to take every chance he can get.

  
  


There’s still confetti and glitter on the stage and on the adjacent floor when the last of the crowd filters out the door, Taehyun waving goodbye to every last one of them from behind the bar. Jisung tightens his jacket around himself, preparing to leave too, but Hyunbin throws an arm around him to keep him away from the cold street just a little while longer.

“One last drink?” Taehyun gestures, lining up shot glasses along the counter. “I promise it’s regular stuff this time.” 

Jisung makes a face at him but still takes a seat, despite how heavy his eyelids feel and how fast his mind is racing from the events of the evening. 

It’s only a few minutes before Kenta emerges from the back of the stage, his makeup off but his robes still on, ever the air of drama around him, and Sanggyun follows suit, his hair still messed up from another loss against the smoke machine. Hyunbin hadn’t lied, seems to Jisung like he never does. Maybe that’s a lesson to learn.

Kenta takes the seat next to Jisung, knocks back the drink that Taehyun immediately serves him. “Enjoy the show?” 

“Very much.” It’s true. Jisung can’t remember the last time he enjoyed himself that much at a show that wasn’t on his own turf. “I’ll remember the special effects for sure.” 

Sanggyun groans into his drink, and Kenta runs a hand through his hair, a falsely apologetic look on his face. “You’ll get it next time, babe. Don’t give up the fight!” He thrusts his fist into the air, solemn, but bursts out laughing a second later when Sanggyun lays his head against the counter.

“But really, thank you.” Jisung raises his glass up to Kenta. “I really needed to get out of my own head.”

Kenta mirrors him, a smile drawn up on his face. “Anytime. That’s what we come here for, yeah? To be free.”

That’s all that needs to be said, really. Jisung cheers to Kenta’s words, to his spirit, to everyone else here, to everything that will remain safe and whole within these walls. For now, it’s enough.

“Correct.” Jisung smiles around the word and he takes another sip, feeling pleasantly dizzy. “Actually, it reminds me a lot of the places I used to hang out at, when I was young and wild.”

The phrasing elicits laughter from most, with only Taehyun raising an amused eyebrow and Sanggyun furrowing his. As much as he’d like it not to be so, Jisung has learned to poke fun at himself when so many of the people he hangs around are younger and fresher, perhaps, because the norms of the world he works in demands youth above all. He doesn’t like to think of himself as having an expiration date, but if it’s going to be the case, he’d rather try to take the drama out of it.

“How old are you, even?” Sanggyun points an interrogatory finger at Jisung, which is quickly slapped away by Kenta. 

“Don’t be rude.”

Jisung has trouble containing his own laughter, and the alcohol clearly isn’t helping. “How old do you think I am?” He swirls the remainder of his drink around in his glass as he takes in the confused look on Sanggyun’s face, waits only a few seconds before breaking his self-imposed silence. “Truth be told, I’m twenty-eight. Clearly a relic,” he sighs. “I’m going to be put out of commission soon, by the community’s standards.”

He downs the rest of his drink in one go before it can turn sour on his tongue. Of course he doesn’t like to think about this kind of thing, especially not with the night he’d had, but it always weighs on the back of Jisung’s mind, how he has been feeling himself slipping to the bottom of his own community, how the customers at the club don’t look at him the same way they do his younger colleagues, how he’d always found it so much easier to go out looking for warmth and touch when he was still in college.

Then there’s the scars on his chest, and the weight of all the things the world would never let him be and that he had to scrape and claw and take hold of for himself, but that’s another thing entirely, and he knows the people in this room would be the last to shun him for it.

“Only if you let it happen, though.” Taehyun throws his dishcloth on the counter, pours himself a drink. “I know it often feels that way, hell sometimes I can’t keep up with this one,” he raises his glass in Hyunbin’s direction, and Hyunbin sticks his tongue out at him. “But think of the people who came before us. We’ll have to take the torch from them too, one day. And the kids, they’ll need us. We all have a purpose.” 

Put that way, Jisung can hardly try to disagree. He thinks of Daehwi, of how even when the kid tries to be independent, he’ll turn to Jisung when he needs help, and he looks up to him, and it makes Jisung feel fuzzy to know that there’s someone who genuinely needs him. Taehyun’s right, and Jisung will be damned if he lets himself forget again.

He slides his drink over to Taehyun, who takes the hint. “Cheers then,” and when Taehyun hands him his glass, Jisung lifts it in his honor. “Thank you.”

“All good, man.” Taehyun leans back against the liquor cabinets. 

It’s then that Hyunbin nudges Jisung’s leg with his own under the bar. “You know, there’s a place for each of us,” he says, smiling around the rim of his glass before taking a sip. “Together.”

Jisung can feel heat creeping at the back of his neck, and whether it’s from the alcohol, or from Hyunbin’s leg still resting against his own, or from Hyunbin’s words, he decides it’s not a bad feeling, not at all. It’s comfortable, somehow, familiar in the same way that he hoped it might be.

“In any case, it’s nice to know places like this exist.” Jisung lets his head fall against Hyunbin’s shoulder, a calculated risk. “Thank you for having me.”

Kenta stands up from his bar stool in one swift motion, robes billowing around him, still a work of art even when the lights are dim. He moves to stand behind Jisung and Hyunbin, an arm around each of them, a kind smile drawn upon his face. From this close, Jisung notices that Kenta has a snaggletooth, a strange childish contrast to his otherwise mature stance. After all, despite the smoke and the glitter, he’s human. 

“If Hyunbin likes someone, they’re always welcome here,” Kenta declares, kissing the top of Hyunbin’s head like a protective older sibling. “He’s our compass. And his heart is surprisingly pure.”

Hyunbin nudges Kenta with his shoulder and the two of them make faces at each other for a moment before Kenta calls it off by blowing Hyunbin a kiss. 

From the other side of the bar, Sanggyun watches on, like he’s used to this kind of situation but could never get tired of it. There’s love in his eyes that reads so easily, so clearly, and Jisung wonders what it’s like to feel that way, but also to be looked at like that. Maybe if he stopped trying to avoid the sparks in his chest whenever Hyunbin moves against him, he’d be closer to finding out. 

But he doesn’t have time to get lost in those thoughts again, doesn’t have the strength right now, when the alcohol is still slowly getting to his brain and he’s trying to keep his grip on the situation. One last drink, Jisung thinks, looking down at the bottom of his glass. 

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Jisung jokes to change his own mind, and he’s met with a smile from Kenta, at least, and an offended expression from Hyunbin. “But I’ll take your word for it, who knows, maybe he can surprise me.”

It’s a suggestion, an invitation, it’s wishful thinking and Jisung should know better. For now, he blames it on the liquor.

The clock on the wall is telling him he should have been home a while ago, but Jisung still takes his time to finish his drink, listens to Taehyun and Sanggyun recount incidents they got into years ago, when they ran in different circles, seemingly lived different lives; or maybe they’re just living several lives at once because it doesn’t seem to Jisung like anyone in this room likes to limit themselves, he should know. He’s interested in these stories, in the names he hears and the weight they hold, in these people that he’s barely just met but feels like he’s always known.

Another day, when he’s got his own feelings in order, they’ll share with each other the lives they’ve lived and the ones still to come.

“Ah,” he gets to the last drops of alcohol, the already dull burn barely there anymore. “I think it’s time for me to pack it in.”

The declaration gets the expected response, Kenta and Sanggyun booing him from their side of the bar, Hyunbin pouting, eyes wide and pleading. “Already?”

“Unless one of you wants to take my place at the clinic, yes.” Jisung says it half-heartedly, because he doesn’t particularly want to go, but he knows he has to before he gets in too deep. “Although I’m fairly certain I’ve stitched you up enough times that you’d probably be able to do it yourselves.”

Taehyun takes his glass and leans over the counter. “No fun if we don’t get to see you, though.” He winks and for a moment Jisung swears Taehyun’s glance darts towards Hyunbin. “Get home safe, ok?”

“I will.” 

Before Jisung can zip up his jacket and say his goodbyes, Hyunbin hops off his stool and joins him in the doorway. “Want to go a bit of the way together?” 

Jisung tries really hard to pretend that he doesn’t hear Kenta and Saggyun’s muffled whooping, and he waves Taehyun goodbye before turning to Hyunbin, who already has his hand on the doorknob.

“Why not.” There’s no harm in it after all. “Have a good night, everyone.”

He can still hear the rest of the group saying goodbye when the door shuts behind them, the bite of early winter surprising Jisung and nearly shocking him out of his happy daze. It didn’t register when they were all inside that the world still kept on moving, that night had fallen and that the day was changing. It’s something Jisung hasn’t known for a long time, a different kind of warmth. 

“I’m glad you had a good time,” Hyunbin muses, hands deep in his pockets. “And I’m glad that… things are ok. Between us.”

Jisung exhales and watches his breath fog over in front of him. “Me too.” He loops his arm with Hyunbin’s and keeps him close as they rejoin the main street, already deserted at this hour. “Let’s… let’s keep it that way.”

He’s still not sure how, but Hyunbin’s smile in the streetlights is enough for Jisung to keep going at least another day.

Back in college, maybe, Jisung read somewhere that a comfortable silence is more valuable than any words. Or maybe he just heard it from a very drunk classmate at a questionable party, who knows, it was longer ago than he likes to think about. He still thinks it’s true, right now, walking arm in arm with Hyunbin, the night watching over them. They walk in silence but it doesn’t feel awkward or heavy, even though Jisung still has so many things he wants to say, but shouldn’t, doesn’t know if he should bring it up when he’s still not sure of what his heart wants. 

It’s so easy to blame all of this on his heart.

When they get to the subway station Jisung stops in his tracks, looking down the opening instead of up at Hyunbin. “This is where we part ways, for now.” He burrows further into his jacket when he separates himself from Hyunbin’s warmth.

Hyunbin seems to be ok with that, even if his bottom lip juts out ever so slightly - though Jisung could swear it’s probably just a reflex Hyunbin has at this point. 

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Hyunbin’s voice is hesitant and hopeful, like something sparked in him, too.

With the lasting effects of liquid courage, Jisung reaches up to ruffle Hyunbin’s hair, and he’s met with a soft protest that sounds progressively more like a giggle. 

“You already know you will.”

  
  


> _< < The problem is figuring out which part is the path and which part is the happiness. >>_

It’s a quiet day at the clinic and Jisung is filing some paperwork for the nearby hospital when Sewoon pushes his chair away from his desk and rolls all the way to where Jisung is sitting.

“So how was your second date?” Sewoon tucks his feet under himself and looks at Jisung. 

Jisung drops a stack of papers on the table but the sound doesn’t even make Sewoon flinch. “Do you have this entire place bugged?” He doesn’t remember telling Sewoon about it, but wouldn’t put it past his coworker to have just listened in.

“This isn’t about me,” Sewoon sing-songs, waves a pencil in Jisung’s face. “You can’t run from these feelings forever, you know. One day, you’re going to have to live with them.”

Easier said than done. Jisung hates to be a cliché but he can’t avoid acknowledging that he just doesn’t know how to deal with this, how to do anything but run. That night at the co-op still lingers on his mind, how easy everything had seemed for a moment, the promise of another that he and Hyunbin had made with only the night sky as their witness. Jisung doesn’t remember if he’d seen any stars there, but he still sees Hyunbin’s smile clear as day.

But in between all that there’s still that uncertainty in his mind, holding him back from crossing over into the light. 

“It’s not like that.” Jisung doesn’t know who he’s trying to fool, but he’s certainly making a brave yet vain attempt to convince himself. “We just had a few drinks all together, the whole crew was there. Whatever scene you imagined… that’s not what it was.”

Sewoon spins in his chair, seemingly completely unfazed. “But you want it to be, right?” It’s unsettling most of the time how hard he is to read, emotions and intentions barely showing through his boyish features. Jisung isn’t sure if Sewoon is doing it on purpose, but it’s working either way.

“Maybe. Either way it’s not happening, so.” Jisung picks up another file, tries to focus on reading through it and ignores that Sewoon is still there, seemingly not going anywhere until he gets to where he actually wants this to go.

“That’s just sad.” Sewoon sighs, his voice lilting up. “I could have sworn I saw something there.”

His tone is intriguing and Jisung doesn’t know how to approach this, because he knows that Sewoon might look like his head is in the clouds, but he never pulls any punches when it comes down to it.

So he just keeps flipping through the pages, tries to maintain his composure. “We live in two different worlds, two different wavelengths…” Jisung stops there, on a file whose name he doesn’t recognize, just so he can swallow down his sadness. “It’s hopeless, yeah?”

Sewoon scoffs then, like Jisung just said something so absurd he can’t quite believe it. “You keep saying that,” he turns in the chair to face Jisung head on, “but anyone actually watching this happen can tell he’s just as smitten as you are.”

Now that just can’t be right. Jisung pushes the files aside because there’s no way he’s concentrating on anything or getting any work done now, and he catches Sewoon mid-spin, grips the chair’s armrest with perhaps a little too much force. 

“What the  _ fuck _ ?”

Sewoon looks at him and there’s finally something coloring his expression, confusion and surprise mixing together as a smile spreads slowly across his face.

“You can’t be that oblivious, right?” He leans forward just a little like he’s trying to tell if Jisung is joking. “My goodness. Even his friends have told me about it. Not that I needed them to let me know.”

Jisung is still holding Sewoon’s chair perfectly still but now it feels like it’s the room that’s spinning, maybe even the entire world, and he feels himself losing his grip on the armrest slowly, his hand falling back into his lap. He tries to rewind everything, all the moments he’d spent with Hyunbin, every touch and every smile and every word they’d exchanged. Of course he remembers that night too, and the kiss, and everything he should have done, and shouldn’t have done, all the if’s and maybe’s that he carries around suddenly feeling heavier than they ever have.

“Hey,” Sewoon’s voice calls him back from the brink. “Look… You’ve really got to stop selling yourself short, yeah?”

It would be very much like Sewoon to have a moment of absolute clarity about the thing Jisung least wants to face about himself.

“There’s something here just waiting for you to make a move,” Sewoon continues, undeterred. “You have got to take the chance, even just once.”

It feels like the air is knocked out of Jisung for good, the ground looming dangerously close for a moment. Maybe it’s better if he just passes out for good so he can pretend this entire conversation never happened, but instead he manages to breathe in again, though not as easily as he’d want.

“You’re always taking care of everyone here, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually do something for yourself.” Sewoon picks at the arms of his chair, speaks as nonchalantly as he ever does, like he isn’t telling Jisung all of the things he’s always refused to hear. “You can’t keep going like this, you know? That’s not living.”

But sometimes it feels like the only way. Jisung wishes he could explain that without sounding insane, like he’s making everything up as he goes to cover up the fear that still lies dormant and festering somewhere in a corner of his heart.

“I don’t think I’ve ever learned how.” He feels a smile coming on and he’s not sure why, because his throat is tight and there’s something unmistakably stinging in the corners of his eyes. “That ship has sailed for me.”

Sewoon shakes his head disapprovingly. “That’s just another excuse. Why are you so reluctant to go for what you want when you’re always encouraging others to do it?”

There’s the gut punch again.

Jisung leans back in his chair, feels himself sagging and deflating, no more energy left in him to argue. He’s heard that enough these days. He knows it’s true, he knows it’s right, but there’s a difference between that and letting himself believe it. 

“What am I supposed to do, then?” He swallows hard and his pride comes down with it. “Just… freefall? ”

At this point he’s not even sure what he expects from Sewoon. Whether a pat on the back, or a slap in the face, Jisung isn’t sure which one he wants or feels like he deserves the most.

Instead Sewoon calmly takes his hand, a much-needed bit of warmth. “You won’t always get hurt. Some falls are worth the jump.”

Jisung screws his eyes shut to chase the tears from where they’ve been pooling up, and he gasps for air. If there’s even a sliver of a possibility that Sewoon is right, Jisung knows deep in the crevices of his heart that he’d regret not pursuing it more than he could ever regret anything that might come of it.

In one last show of solidarity, Sewoon offers to finish sorting the paperwork for the day, and Jisung goes home early, head spinning with hope like he hasn’t felt in a long time.

  
  
  
  


Jisung is sitting on his couch trying to get himself in the right headspace for tonight’s show when it suddenly comes to him, like a timely intervention from the universe.

The idea is simple, and yet it seems like Jisung can’t stop freezing up the whole time he’s scrolling through his phone to find Hyunbin’s number. If he’s going to do this he wants to do it well, to open his world to Hyunbin the way Hyunbin had opened his, to take the risks he’s been denying himself for what feels like forever because he was too scared of getting hurt. 

A text seems like the best way to go about this, clean and simple, but Jisung feels like that’s still hiding in a way, like he’s still keeping Hyunbin at arm’s length. So he taps the ‘call’ button, chews on his bottom lip while he listens to the dial tone. He doesn’t want to read anything into how little he has to wait for Hyunbin to pick up, and fails miserably.

“Hey there.” Hyunbin’s voice is distant on the other end, and Jisung feels heat creeping up the back of his neck.

He clears his throat, tries to compose himself. “Am I on speaker?” 

“Ah.” There’s some indistinguishable noise before Hyunbin continues. “Yeah sorry, I’m just sorting through some of my stuff, thought I could multitask.” His voice gets closer as he speaks until it’s fully in Jisung’s ear. “What’s up?”

Okay. It’s now or never. Jisung knows that if he chickens out of this now, he’s not sure if he’ll ever find the courage again.

“I was thinking, since you were so kind to invite me to the co-op the other day,” psyching himself up is harder than he thought it would be, “I’d return the favor. I’m main event at the club tonight, so if uh, if you want to come and watch-”

“Yes.” Hyunbin’s response cuts Jisung’s air supply off. “Yes, oh my, absolutely, yes. It would be an honor,” a sound like he’s shifting, and then Jisung can hear the smile in his voice. “And a pleasure.”

Of course, he can’t help himself from doing this, from saying things that make Jisung’s heart twist and turn in his chest, like a wild and frightened beast trying to find a way out. Still Jisung tries to focus on the positive, on the fact that Hyunbin does seem genuinely enthusiastic, that they’ll be on Jisung’s turf this time, and Jisung tries to convince himself that he’ll have home advantage.

At least he’ll be in his element on stage, and maybe he’ll even forget that he’s so nervous about this in the first place. 

“I’ll text you the address, yeah? Let the manager know when you get there.” Jisung surprises himself with how well he’s handling this whole thing, all things considered. 

On the other end of the line, Hyunbin makes an enthusiastic noise. “Gotcha. I can’t wait. Can’t wait!”

The repetition makes Jisung nervous but he still manages to end the call without completely crumbling, not that he isn’t tempted to afterwards. He drops his phone back in his pocket, and exhales all the air out of his lungs to get the last of the nerves out of his system.

He can’t run from this, not when he’s going to let Hyunbin in like that. Even though as he’s sending the text, carefully typing out the club’s address, there’s that wave of second guessing coming over him again, he shakes it away. If what Sewoon said is true, if any of it even stands a hint of a chance, maybe there’s something to be gained at the end of it. 

Maybe there’s even something to keep.

  
  
  


The night has barely started and Jisung’s only halfway through getting dressed and ready to go when Seongwu knocks on the door.

“Are you all decent?” 

Jaehwan doesn’t miss the opportunity, shouts back a gleeful “When are we ever?” and bounces out of his seat and to the door to let Seongwu in. 

“Someone’s here to see you.” 

For that moment, Jisung forgets he’s barely wearing anything, the silk robe he’s thrown on almost slipping off his body as he shuffles across the hallway to the main room, tries to keep himself out of view of the regular customers while he tries to spot Hyunbin. 

Jisung is lucky that Hyunbin is a good head taller than everyone else in the room, and he tries to silently call for him, wildly waving his arm around until he catches Hyunbin’s attention. 

“Oh  _ wow _ ,” is the first thing out of Hyunbin’s mouth when they finally get close enough to greet each other, and Jisung isn’t dissatisfied with that at all. “Hello there.”

It’s useless trying to not let that simple reaction get to his head, so Jisung decides to bask in it for once. “Wait ‘til you see it all.”

The look on Hyunbin’s face then is enough to make Jisung not instantly regret that show of boldness. Now he feels like the tables are turning just a little, that the night can and will be good if he wills it to be. He pulls the silk around himself to try and tease a little more, leans against the wall of the hallway.

“I should finish getting ready. Enjoy the other performances too, ok?”

Hyunbin rolls his shoulders and tilts his head, taking one more look at Jisung. “I’ll try. Seems like it’ll all be worth it.” 

  
  


The minute Jisung steps back into the dressing room, he’s cornered by Daniel and Jaehwan, and he’s not sure whose questions he wants to avoid the most. 

“What was that,” Jaehwan says point blank, an inquisitive look plastered all over his face. “Who was that?”

Daniel eventually lets Jisung pass through to his clothing rack, but still follows him there. “Anyone I’m meant to be looking out for in the crowd tonight?” he asks, voice low and charged with a certain kind of excitement that isn’t lost on Jisung.

“If I tell you, will you act appropriately?” Jisung teases, nudging Daniel out of the way to grab one of his tearaway garments. 

The way Daniel looks positively offended at the implication is adorable just as it is hilarious, cheeks puffing up like a third grader. “Who do you take me for? Jaehwan?”

“I heard that!” Jaehwan bursts through the rack, dramatic as ever. “Jisung, you know I only want the best for you. I’m simply trying to make sure this guy is right for my friend.” 

Jisung is sure there’s actual good intentions there, because as much as he likes to get his nose in other people’s business and give his opinion on pretty much everything, Jaehwan has never been anything but supportive of anything his friends actually chose to do. And sure, maybe Jiho’s financial situation was a bonus for Jaehwan to push Daniel in his direction, but there’s been nothing but genuine fondness from him since then, everytime he sees the two together. He wouldn’t judge Hyunbin for being on the opposite end of the scale, for being scruffy and rough around the edges, but that’s not what makes Jisung nervous in the first place.

“I don’t want you to scare him away, is all.” He closes the clothes back up on Jaehwan’s face, not missing the pout already forming on his friend’s face.

Truth be told, having anyone close to him meet Hyunbin already makes whatever this is so much more real, and Jisung isn’t sure he’s ready to deal with that quite yet. One step at a time is alright, for now, even if the step he’s about to take feels more like a leap of faith.

“I am a friendly person!” Jaehwan struts back to his chair, crosses his arms against his chest. “But okay. Only if you promise to introduce him to us when you’re finally done with this little game of cat and mouse.”

That’s something Jisung can think about, at least. He has time. “Fine.” He concedes because it’s easier, because today is Minhyun’s day off and he doesn’t feel like dealing with this by himself anymore than he’s already had to.

Their intentions are good, is what he keeps telling himself, even when Daniel sneaks out of the room on the pretense that he needs Seongwu for something, probably to ask him to point out Hyunbin in the crowd. Jisung knows he’s making a mountain out of a molehill, again, so he just tries to focus.

He thinks about how Hyunbin had looked at him, a different kind of hunger from the one he’s used to seeing, and he really hopes he’s not completely wrong about it. Really, he doesn’t want the upper hand, doesn’t think it’ll lead either of them anywhere. But it’s nice to feel wanted, even for a fleeting second, because Jisung thinks he’d all but forgotten about it. 

Watching the others from the side of the stage, Jisung can see Hyunbin sitting at one of the tables behind the VIP section, slowly sipping on his drink as he watches the night unfold. There’s a certain vested interest in his eyes, and Jisung is pretty sure he catches Hyunbin whistling in appreciation a few times during Jaehwan’s performance, so at least he’s comfortable here. The thought that Hyunbin would judge this place, so far removed from his home and his ideals, is something that had been running in the back of Jisung’s mind and that he’s glad he can finally put to rest.

When the lights go down and Jaehwan steps off of the stage, Jisung feels a knot tying in his stomach, mirroring the one in his throat. There’s no turning back now.

“You okay?” Seongwu taps him on the shoulder, offers him a bottle of water. “Don’t get nervous now. Go kill it as always.” 

It’s not an order, or an ultimatum, because Seongwu wouldn’t ever dare, but he’s firm enough in his words that Jisung decides to trust and take them to heart. He takes a sip of the water, only now realizing how dry his throat actually was, and he nods at Seongwu to cue his music. 

“Let’s give them their money’s worth.”

There’s never been a moment that Jisung hasn’t enjoyed being on this stage, nothing that can top the feeling of freedom he feels when he steps out from behind the curtain. In that moment he remembers that this is what he wanted to show Hyunbin when he invited him here, not his mess of feelings, not his fragile heart. 

Those will unravel in due time.

Instead he closes his eyes and takes one last breath, listens as Seongwu introduces him over the speakers and the crowd gets riled up. He hears the music start, and when he opens his eyes he sees the smoke coming up from under the stage, the lights filling the room as the stagehand pushes his props onto the platform.

When Jisung advances to the front of the stage, finally, holding his arms open to greet the customers who are already opening their wallets and fixing their eyes on him, all he can see is Hyunbin, still at his table, beer glass half empty and seemingly abandoned as he keeps his gaze fixed on the spectacle in front of him. And Jisung has never been afraid to be seen by anyone when he's here, all his inhibitions and all his fears seemingly disappearing, shadows taken over by stage lights. But it's different when it's Hyunbin, it seems, because Jisung feels a shiver running through his body, taking hold of him for the briefest moment before the music gives him his cue.

His knows this act, he's performed it before. The couch and the silk and the strobing that highlights every part of his body in turn, the cheers from the hungry-eyed men in the room, throwing their money at him as a replacement for themselves. Slowly, steadily, he peels off every layer of clothing, everything separating him from the world. Hiding is only good for a moment. There's a part where the music get slower and Jisung gets more deliberate in his movements, drags a finger slowly across his chest, feels the familiar scar tissue there, just below his heart. He wonders exactly how many people in this room know what it means to him.

It's only when the beat kicks in again and he throws himself back, exposed and raw and bathed in light, that the men really get going, Only when Jisung leans away from them do they seem to truly want him. Maybe that's where the defense mechanism comes from, and he can't believe he's having these deliberations right now.

But as he slowly gets up and makes his way to the front of the stage, he catches Hyunbin's eye and he knows that Hyunbin knows. He sees Hyunbin nodding and smiling, and it feels like every wall Jisung has ever built around himself is crumbling little by little, leaving only their foundations. Maybe one day they can build something back up from the rubble.

Other nights, Jisung never notices how fast time goes. Now he's standing at the edge as the music fades out and the lights go dim, and he almost catches himself continuing just so he can see more of what Hyunbin really thinks of him. Instead he stands there for a second longer than usual, lets the last remaining bills fall at his feet. The cheers from the audience are muted to him, a low rumble that doesn't even matter anymore.

"See?" Seongwu tells him when Jisung steps offstage, handing him a towel and another bottle of water. "Got them eating right out of your hand." He gives Jisung a sincere smile and a nod, like he's trying to convince him.

Not that Jisung would need more convincing, usually; he knows he's good at his job and there's only very few times where he doesn't feel like he's left an impression. But it seems that Seongwu knew tonight was different, even if the details were left out, and Jisung welcomes the sort of easy reassurance he provides.

"Feels good." Jisung hears his own breath coming out short as he speaks, and he knows it's not because of the routine. Sure it takes a lot of energy, but he's become used to it enough that he can tell the rush of adrenaline is because of something else entirely. "I'm going to head out on the floor after I change, yeah? Count me out for the private rooms tonight."

Thankfully, Seongwu doesn't ask any more questions. He just takes the towel back, motions for the stagehand to collect the last of Jisung's money, and walks Jisung back to the dressing room. He immediately has to contend with Jaehwan demanding that the club hire a massage therapist, because "these heels are not for the weak, man!", so Jisung takes the opportunity to slip behind the clothing rack unnoticed.

It takes him a moment to decide if he wants to head back out as himself. It would be good to get some time with Hyunbin, to unpack everything that happened in those brief moments when their eyes met across the room, but he's still technically on the clock, and he won't pass up a few extra bills that any in-over-his-head businessman wants to throw at him.

"You should go like, slutty casual." Daniel appears next to him with no warning and looks through the rack before settling on a denim ensemble straight out of some bad adult movie. "Let him know what it's really all about."

Out of all the bad ideas that could have come out of tonight, this definitely isn't the worst one, all things considered. "Oh we're showing leg tonight?" Jisung takes the outfit off of its hanger and measures it up to his own body. "Guess if I'm ever going to go all in it might as well be tonight, huh?"

Daniel gives him a thumbs up and laughs when Jisung sticks his leg out between the clothes, prompting Jaehwan to shriek on the other side.

"Really though, this is a big step, isn't it?" Daniel fiddles with some of the outfits, like he's trying to keep himself busy so he doesn't overstep his boundaries. "Are you feeling okay about it?"

If he's being honest with himself, Jisung doesn't really know. It's been too long since he'd ever let anyone new inside his world like that, since anyone had really gotten to see this side of him, much less anyone who's only seen him in broad daylight. To say that he's scared would probably be an understatement, but the rush still hasn't subsided, to even his own surprise, and he's trying to keep himself under control but it's getting harder, when all he wants is to go out there and see Hyunbin. Before tonight, he would probably have felt like he's hit a wall. Now he's at a fork in the road, and all that's left is to decide which way to go.

So he sets about getting ready, a funny sense of relief washing over him when he finds out that the ensemble does actually fit him, and he doesn't look as ridiculous as he thought he might.

"I'll tell you tomorrow morning."

  
  


It's only when Jisung steps onto the floor that the nerves he'd tucked away before he went on stage make their return. Everything seems to feel different because he knows that Hyunbin is here, every step in this routine he's done a hundred times over feels like it's wrong, and he tries to avoid the customers as much as he can without scorning any of them. If there's complaint's he'll just play it off, although he doubts anything substantial will come out of this. If anything he's sure some of these men enjoy the chase more than anything, and maybe dodging and keeping them on edge will just leave them wanting more and coming back with bigger tips.

Still Jisung knows his trade, so he entertains some of the regulars in the VIP area for a brief moment each, gives them enough so that they tuck their cash into his back pocket, his hands roaming everywhere but where they want him. He wades his way through them, picks them off like petals on a daisy, until he gets to the core of his question. Through it all, Hyunbin is still sitting there, and he's already ordered drinks, and Jisung wonders if he's seen any of the scene that just occurred just meters away from him.

"You play just as well as you work." There's a smile on Hyunbin's lips when he says it, pushing Jisung's glass towards him. "I think... I think I understand you better now."

Jisung stirs the ice cubes in his glass, watches them melt. "You do?" He's not sure why he's so afraid to meet Hyunbin's eyes just yet. "I'm glad you liked the show."

Even with his eyes fixed on the lemon slice in his drink, Jisung can feel Hyunbin watching him with careful intent, so he decides it's probably better to just get it over with.

"I like getting to know you. Every part of you." Hyunbin speaks so softly Jisung has to lean over the table to catch the last of his words. It sounds like a promise. "You're special, I hope these guys tell you that a lot."

These guys tell Jisung a lot of things, but they're never quite what he wants to hear. Even if any of them had taken the time to try and get under his skin, they'd never last long anyway, because their motives are far from pure and their hearts are far from gentle. Hyunbin doesn't fit in with them, and it seems like he doesn't want to, and that suits Jisung just fine.

"It has a much nicer ring coming from you." Jisung takes a sip of his drink and extends a hand to Hyunbin over the table. It doesn't take much more than a second for Hyunbin to take it.

He's not sure at what point the clock strikes the hour to signal the end of his shift, or when he finishes the last sour drop of alcohol, or if it has anything to do with the fact that he's still holding Hyunbin's hand when everything happens. All Jisung knows is that he throws his clothes on haphazardly, and he barely remembers to throw his work outfits in for the cleaner's, and then he's out the door, and Hyunbin is waiting for him on the street.

"Where are we headed?" Hyunbin asks, burrowing deeper into his jacket. It's gotten surprisingly colder these days, like winter decided to run up on them just a little earlier.

Jisung knows that if he does this he won't be able to come back from it, not anymore. It's scary and yet the need to go through with it is bubbling up in his stomach, carried by the remnants of the night's high. He's seen the way Hyunbin had looked at him, vested interest in more than just the show, with that softness still there and that look that said 'let me in'. Maybe now is the time, before Jisung's courage wears off, before his good intentions are replaced by his unshakable doubt. If this is headed anywhere, it's time to get on the road. If this is bound for disaster, at least let it burn up across the sky.

"Somewhere safe."

Up above, there's a star to guide them home.

> _< < pressing against you until he fits, _ _until he's made a place for himself_
> 
> _inside you. >>_

They've been here together before and Jisung remembers, inviting Hyunbin in, watching as the room filled up a little more, with an intent that he couldn't quite capture last time. Now he's still holding Hyunbin's hand when they both get inside, the lock clicking out of place and them falling into it. It's not how Jisung had envisioned anything, because he simply hadn't dared to, but now they're right where they need to be even if it's just for tonight before the sky crashes down.

"Tell me right now, before I get in over my head." Hyunbin says in the dark, Jisung fumbling to find the light switch. He really hasn't had that much to drink but he's feeling dizzy nonetheless, and it still makes his ears feel hot to admit why. "This is happening, yeah?"

There's that thin veil of innocence as always, and it makes Jisung feel a strange kind of comfort to know that Hyunbin would have walked home with him and made sure he got there even if he wasn't expecting anything else to come out of it. Or maybe he's putting too much faith in this, and Hyunbin is just young and horny, but tonight that suits Jisung just fine too. He's trying not to think about anyone else in a moment like this, but he feels like Sewoon would probably give him a thumbs up if he knew.

"One missed chance is enough." Jisung finally flicks the light on and Hyunbin is just standing near the living room window, looking out at a city that has no idea or care for people like them. "Do you want this?"

Both of them probably know that Jisung isn't asking the real question, but Hyunbin still smiles like he heard it. It's a relief when Jisung feels Hyunbin's hands on him, pulling him close like the last time, but this time around there's an intent in him that's unmistakable, and Jisung lets himself go to him.

"Well," Hyunbin narrows his eyes in thought, carefully navigating the situation. "You finally caught me."

So Jisung really was that oblivious this whole time. It's no surprise, all things considered, but it still makes him feel silly, a lover caught in the headlights. He's sure there were signs he could have read, or even people he could have asked, if Sewoon was to be believed, but as always there's the punch of knowing your own worth, or thinking that you do. Jisung has never liked being wrong. Tonight he's ready to make an exception.

He lets his hands roam up Hyunbin's chest, up to his shoulders and neck, cups Hyunbin's face like he's wanted to do one too many times since that night to admit. "Sorry it took so long."

"All good." Hyunbin leans into Jisung's touch and lets his eyes fall shut for a moment. The city truly doesn't know what it's missing. "We're here now."

That's all Jisung needs.

Even after he'd tried to erase the memory, the way Hyunbin kisses him then makes Jisung remember how much he'd wanted him, how much he'd tried to deny it. There's no doing more of that now, because he doesn't have the time, because Hyunbin is here and he wants to be and maybe this can be everything that Jisung never thought he deserved. If it's the adrenaline talking to him then that's one more piece of advice he's willing to take. So he throws his arms around Hyunbin's shoulders, lets himself be swept away in this, all of the things that he's always wanted but been too scared to ask for.

Even if it's a temporary high, Jisung doesn't want to feel scared anymore.

"Where are we going?" Hyunbin asks again, between two kisses.

Jisung doesn't want to let him down, easy or not. He looks up, tries to show Hyunbin everything that he's still not sure how to say, but he still wants to reassure him. He's got both hands on Hyunbin's chest and it would be so easy to push him away now. "Anywhere."

If it's not the answer Hyunbin was waiting for, Jisung won't know, because he looks satisfied with it anyway.

The way they fall into each other is so easy that Jisung wonders how he could have pretended not to see it all this time. He's trying to retrace the steps it took to get there, and at the same time Hyunbin is everywhere, in his space and in his mind and on his body, traveling hands looking for the long way around like he doesn't want to miss any details.

He's seen Hyunbin's body before but it's different now, kneeling on his bed and pulling Hyunbin's shirt up above his head, leaving only the expanse of his skin, with as many scars as Jisung remembers, and some that he doesn't. Sometimes Jisung wonders how many lives Hyunbin has lived before this one, and the stories he'd have to tell. For now he traces a finger over the scar on Hyunbin's collarbone, the words etched there in ink cut up by the flesh wound, down to his ribs where the bruising is only a memory now. He finds the remnants of stitches on Hyunbin's stomach from a bar fight gone terribly wrong, and traces his way from them to the tattoo on his side. There's still a slight bump on his wrist from when Hyunbin had twisted it, and Jisung brushes his thumb over it as he takes Hyunbin's hand, his palm open towards the sky. And all the while Hyunbin sits there, patient, willingly handing himself over to Jisung. When he traces over certain spots, Jisung feels Hyunbin shivering at his touch and he retreats, concern tightening up his throat.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," Hyunbin reassures him. He takes Jisung's hand and places it over his heart, warm and beating steadily.

That's all Jisung needs to know. He knows there are more scars, more memories, all over Hyunbin's body. If that's all they are now, pain only a distant ghost, then that's all that matters.

Hyunbin reaches his hands out and Jisung lets him have his way. It's different to be bare now, his shirt discarded over to the floor, no lights or crowd or smoke to hide behind. The way Hyunbin looks at him is different too, as it seems it's always been. There's no malice in his eyes, nothing but careful intent, fingertips tracing up Jisung's rib and stopping just below his chest.

It's never been something Jisung is ashamed of. "We've all got scars." He says, taking Hyunbin's hand.

"I told you before." Hyunbin smiles, shifts on the bed so he's closer to Jisung. "Coolest person I know."

From where he is, maybe Jisung can learn to believe it. He's never thought himself to be special, above the norm, definitely not the coolest person in anyone's life. But if Hyunbin keeps telling him, maybe it can come true.

"Not sure where you got that from," Jisung teases, lets Hyunbin take him fully in his arms and lift him up to sit in his lap. "But thank you."

It's a nice feeling, regardless. Hyunbin hides his face against Jisung's neck, peppers a few kisses down the line of it. "No questioning it this time, though."

That's a fair point and Jisung gives it to Hyunbin just this once.

Weirdly, Jisung doesn't have anything left in him to fight it. He doesn't want to keep selling himself short, not tonight when he's got Hyunbin's arms wrapped around him and it feels safer than any of the times Jisung has locked himself in. For now it's enough for him to pull Hyunbin closer, the bed dipping under them as Jisung shifts to push Hyunbin back onto it.

Laid out and almost bare, Hyunbin still smiles. It's almost disconcerting how calm he seems to be, how he's taking everything in stride, especially when Jisung still feels his own heart nearly beating its way out of his chest.

It would be so easy to kiss that smile off of his face and not have to think too much about everything that led them here, but Jisung wants to revel in it for a little while longer. He takes his time to card his fingers through Hyunbin's hair - it's getting longer than Jisung thinks he's ever seen it. Minutely, Jisung traces the lines of Hyunbin's face with a fingertip. He goes over the faint remnant of a scar on Hyunbin's forehead, down the slope of his nose, to the contours of his lips, which part under his touch. When Jisung lets his hand fall next to Hyunbin's face and finally dips down to kiss him, he feels like he's swallowed a star.

Slowly and all-consuming, it takes its place across the sky.

"My turn," Hyunbin mumbles, halfway through their kiss, barely coming up for air but still finding a way to flip them over.

Jisung lets himself go with the movement, locks his arms around Hyunbin's shoulders again just to keep him there for a few moments more. He could probably stay like this the whole night, but then he feels Hyunbin's weight on him, and his body reminds him of what he wants. It's the way his throat gets tighter when Hyunbin kisses his way down Jisung's jaw, to his neck, to the slope of his shoulder just so he can say he was there.

On instinct, Jisung tries to stop him, to get him back to where they were. He doesn't know what's left to be scared of but he still has to kick his own gut feeling to the curb when Hyunbin looks up, eyes wide and questioning.

"Is this ok?"

To hell with regrets. Just for tonight. "Yes."

It doesn't take much more than that for Hyunbin to keep going on his way, his hands roaming free, covering the surface of Jisung's skin. Everywhere they stop just to hold him feels like it's burning white-hot. Jisung feels like he's given himself over to Hyunbin but he's not scared anymore, strangely, like there's a promise in every single one of Hyunbin's touches.

The way he kisses his way down Jisung's chest is enough to leave Jisung aching for more, his own breath the only sound heard in the room. Hyunbin doesn't leave any part of Jisung unloved and it makes Jisung feel like he can trust Hyunbin with this, with any of the things he wants and needs. He's melting against the sheets and Hyunbin calls him back by lightly treading his fingers down Jisung's side, sending a shiver through his whole body.

"Still with me?" The words are muttered against Jisung's stomach, hot breath making him dizzy.

He lays a hand on the top of Hyunbin's head to make him look. "Not going anywhere."

The grin that colors Hyunbin's face is somewhere between joy and mischief and he doesn't need to be told anything else to go back to his ministrations. Jisung surprises himself when he hears himself whine as Hyunbin sucks a mark into the skin of his hips, somewhere only the two of them will know.

"Now you also have something to remember me by." Hyunbin's voice is heavy with something new, something Jisung hasn't heard before.

Jisung figures it's only fair, after all the times he's left his own kind of marks on Hyunbin's skin. He figures maybe one day he should try to return the favor, give Hyunbin a memento born out of desire and not pain. But then, it seems they're all as equally precious to Hyunbin, instants of his life captured in flesh that he won't let go of. So Jisung leaves him be. He can always find more time to unravel and understand that peculiarity.

He feels the sting where Hyunbin's lips leave his skin, and immediately after there's a soothing feeling, Hyunbin's hot breath on his belly. Hyunbin looks up at him in expectation, like he's too shy to ask for what he wants, but a finger hooked in the waistband of Jisung's jeans signals his demand.

"Go on then." Jisung's voice is hoarse already, breath staggered as his mind races to try and keep up with the situation.

Hyunbin licks his lips and straightens up, knees digging into the mattress. "Don't want to overstep."

For a moment, Jisung thinks it's adorable how Hyunbin is still so sheepish even now. Then he remembers that night and how he'd reacted to a kiss, and figures it's only fair that Hyunbin would feel this way. Even when he still regrets pushing him away then, Jisung feels a wave of gratitude washing over him that Hyunbin is still being considerate.

"That's behind us, isn't it?" Jisung knows that he's trying to convince himself just as much. "Now we're here, and I want- I want this."

Something stops him from saying more, even though he feels it burning at the back of his throat. Maybe it'll just come to him in time, when they've found the balance between the things they're feeling and the things they're willing to do. For now Jisung lets himself go, watches as Hyunbin carefully peels his jeans off of him, every movement slow and deliberate and meant to be committed to memory.

Hyunbin stays silent for a second. He shifts from one knee to the other, and Jisung keeps watching him, gives him time.

From the tight knot in his gut and the feeling between his legs, Jisung knows that Hyunbin can probably tell where to go from now. Still he waits, feels himself grinning when Hyunbin pulls at his boxers to toss them aside, tongue darting between his lips when he gets a full view of Jisung laid bare for him. It's a nice feeling, for a change. Too many times Jisung remembers feeling nervous and scared, in this situation, never sure of how everything would go once the men he was with fully realized who he is. Some would barely be able to hide their contempt, or even their disgust. It made Jisung's stomach twist in a wholly different way. He squeezes his eyes shut to chase those memories away, because they're remnants of a past he doesn't want clouding the present.

This present, right now, with Hyunbin lying back down, his hands trailing down Jisung's legs, pushing them apart just a little more. Instinctively, Jisung bends his knees, and he hears a muffled sound, looks up to find Hyunbin hiding his face against the bed.

"Everything ok down there?" Jisung can't help the giggle that mixes with his words.

Hyunbin adjusts himself and looks up. "What if I do everything wrong," he says, his cheeks getting redder with every word. There's only earnest concern in his voice too and Jisung wants to just pull him back up and hold him, to chase any of his worries away. "Can you, er-" Hyunbin bites his tongue. "Can you tell me? How to do this?"

Out of all the things that people have done for Jisung, in his life and in bed, this might be the sweetest. Now he really can't stop himself from smiling, eyes trained on Hyunbin's sincere expression, and he holds a hand out to tousle Hyunbin's hair just for the sake of seeing how Hyunbin's blush deepens.

"My pleasure."

Jisung is happy to hear that Hyunbin lets out a small laugh at that, even if it still sounds a little nervous, it's alright. He'll get there eventually, and Jisung is more than happy to help him along the way.

Slowly, Jisung cards his fingers through Hyunbin's hair a few times to try and soothe the nerves. "Slow and steady wins the race."

Finally, a smile spreads across Hyunbin's face. "You know I like winning." He nudges the inside of Jisung's thigh. "I'll go where you want me."

It's unusual but not unpleasant, to be in charge like this. Jisung lets his head fall back against the pillows, and he takes his hand back, leaves Hyunbin to deal with himself for a moment before he speaks up. 

"Kiss me," he says, and Hyunbin does, pressing his lips to the space just between Jisung's thigh and his crotch.

He works slowly, making sure not to leave any part of Jisung untouched, his breath ghosting over Jisung's skin, tongue darting out to feel his way around, and Jisung feels his throat tightening, sounds barely making it through already.

Hyunbin takes the assignment seriously, splays a hand on the inside of Jisung's thigh to push it apart and give himself more space to work. It's far too easy for Jisung to accommodate him. He pleads wordlessly, at first, and then realizes that it's not what Hyunbin is waiting for.

"So diligent," Jisung breathes out, only a little amused by the situation, because it's taking more and more of his willpower to not just grind down against Hyunbin's mouth. "Use your tongue, baby."

Maybe it's being given directions that reassures him, or maybe the pet name spurs him on more than Jisung had anticipated, but Hyunbin seems to get a rush of confidence from just those few words. He groans and then Jisung feels it, wet and hot against his skin, Hyunbin's tongue licking a slow, careful stripe along his vulva, stopping just before he reaches Jisung's clit. It's hard not to feel frustrated but Jisung breathes out, gives Hyunbin the time to get used to all of this.

Jisung doesn't want to think about how long it's been, but he still has to cover his own mouth when he feels Hyunbin's tongue on him. He's not sure what to expect, waits for Hyunbin's next move while he tries to regulate his breathing and make sure that his heart doesn’t give out everytime Hyunbin lays another kiss upon his skin.

"Keep going. Go slow, please-"

He doesn't have time to finish, the words cut off as Hyunbin keeps his pace, busies his tongue on Jisung's inner labia, deliberate touches that don't give Jisung any moment to catch his breath. "You're doing good," Jisung croons, and Hyunbin makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat. "You can go further, it feels good I promise."

Even just feeling Hyunbin's breath on his sensitive skin makes Jisung arch off the bed a little, and he'd be almost embarrassed about how needy he's being right now if Hyunbin wasn't so eager to please. There's another kitten lick, just below his clit, like Hyunbin isn't quite sure what to do, if he's even allowed to go there.

"Don't be shy now," Jisung breathes out, because he needs more, and he needs Hyunbin to show him that he wants it too.

Seemingly, Hyunbin hears him loud and clear, because he dips his head down again and the next thing Jisung knows there's Hyunbin's tongue licking over his clit, teasing just enough that Jisung feels the muscles in his thighs twitch from just trying to hold himself together.

Maybe he's getting the hang of this by himself, or maybe it's just feeling how responsive Jisung is, how every little touch makes him squirm, but then Hyunbin gets bolder with his ministrations.

He teases the nub with the tip of his tongue, presses a little harder each time Jisung moans in response, and when he lifts his head and takes a breath, Jisung can barely catch his.

"Don't go easy on me now." Jisung shifts down the bed a little, his knees drawn up. When he looks at Hyunbin he can see the younger man's flushed cheeks, how shiny and red his lips are already, a vision of love and want and giving yourself up to the feeling.

Hyunbin licks his lips and rests his head against the inside of Jisung's thigh for a moment, looking up. "Wouldn't want to leave you hanging," he says, his usual cat-like grin spreading across his face at the same time that he snakes a hand under Jisung's hip, hoists him up with ease.

It's the only respite Jisung gets before he feels Hyunbin's lips on his clit again, the pressure building up all the way to his stomach, his muscles clenching and releasing to try and hold himself together. Jisung barely realizes that he's pushing his hips down before he hears Hyunbin gasp for air, and even then he can barely mumble out a 'sorry' before Hyunbin readily forgives him and puts his mouth back on him.

Even as he seems to be building up confidence, his mouth moving against Jisung with more ease, prying him open, Hyunbin still seems to shy away from some of it. His tongue circles around Jisung's opening in a deliberate motion, and Jisung feels his heartbeat growing more and more erratic the more Hyunbin seems to hesitate.

"Hey," he calls, and Hyunbin stops himself, a hand holding on to Jisung's leg. "It doesn't bite, you know."

Silence falls over the both of them but it doesn't last long, and Jisung bursts out laughing at Hyunbin's confused expression and the way his cheeks go red from one second to the next at the suggestion. It's ridiculous, Jisung knows, but he'd rather soothe Hyunbin's nerves that way. It ends up working when Hyunbin falls into a fit of giggles in turn, the tips of his ears turning a deep crimson.

"Thank you." Hyunbin barely manages to regain his composure. "I was getting scared."

Jisung breathes out the last of his laughter but his smile remains, and he feels lighter still, warmth spreading through his chest. "Don't have to be." He extends a hand down to where he knows he'll find Hyunbin's and sure enough, their fingers intertwine over Jisung's hip. "Just take it slow, go on."

He manages to watch as Hyunbin dips back down, but the first touch of Hyunbin's tongue sends Jisung's head rolling back against the pillow, his body taking over his mind. Hyunbin teases him now, whether he's doing it deliberately or not, but it feels relentless when he circles the tip of his tongue over the edge for a few excruciating seconds. Every moan out of Jisung's lips seems to only slow the process down, like Hyunbin is seeing how far he can take it, playing with the rules until they break. It's so typical and it only makes Jisung want him more, a shiver seizing the back of his neck.

When Hyunbin pushes his tongue in, Jisung is almost embarrassed of how it only takes a fraction of a second for him to buck his hips down, chasing the high of sensation. He hears himself, broken mewls and groans escaping him with every thrust of Hyunbin's tongue, every time Hyunbin licks over the hole just to see what kind of reaction it'll get out of Jisung.

"Oh god- goddamnit," Jisung searches for words but all he can do is curse and hope the heavens don't hear him. "Yeah, that's it-"

To hell with any coherent thought, when Hyunbin is finding new ways to take him apart, a stroke of his tongue over Jisung's clit before he returns to his exploration. He feels his way around, a hand still supporting Jisung's hips where Jisung isn't sure he can still control himself, grinding down against Hyunbin's tongue every time it dips inside him.

"You're a fast learner," Jisung pants, his free hands twisting in his sheets. "Oh my- fuck, Hyunbin..."

The mention of his name makes Hyunbin growl, low and guttural in the back of his throat, and it has no right to turn Jisung on as much as it does, not when he's already on the verge of falling over the edge. He's still blushing all over when he comes up for air but there's something in his eyes that tells Jisung he's not quite shy about this anymore, and Jisung beckons him upwards, his hands feeling their way down Hyunbin's chest as Hyunbin aligns their bodies again.

"I'm being selfish, yeah?" Jisung feels how hard Hyunbin is, rubs him through his jeans and Hyunbin whines, the sound breaking halfway. "Thank you, thank you," Jisung pulls Hyunbin down, kisses the corner of his mouth. "We're here for each other, after all."

He's not as nimble as usual, when his thoughts are running wild and his body is craving contact again, but Jisung still manages to fumble with the buttons and zipper of Hyunbin's jeans enough that they come undone, leave a path for Jisung to slip his hand in and grab hold on Hyunbin's cock. Immediately, Hyunbin whimpers, hangs his head over Jisung's shoulder.

"Please," he mumbles, breath coming in short against Jisung's skin.

It's too easy to oblige him, after everything he's done. Hyunbin's pants are quickly discarded, because there's more important things to worry about, like how Jisung feels that need building up in his gut again, wetness gathering between his legs as he wraps his hand around Hyunbin's cock, swipes his thumb over the head to gather some of the precome and smear it down the length. It's not going to be enough, he knows, but the slight friction seems to satisfy Hyunbin for now so Jisung gives him a few slow strokes, just enough to hear Hyunbin moan contentedly, to see his shoulders relax and feel his body rocking forward into Jisung's touch.

"Come here," Jisung tells him, and Hyunbin does, their bodies molding to each other in one smooth motion before Jisung silently asks for a kiss.

Even with his mind clouded with need, Hyunbin still kisses like there's never going to be another chance to. He presses against Jisung, a hand holding Jisung's hip, and he mewls a little into Jisung's mouth when the contact isn't enough anymore. There's a way for both of them to get what they want, so Jisung disentangles himself from Hyunbin just enough to stretch over to the side of the bed. It's only for a few seconds, just time for Jisung to fumble around in the abandoned drawer of his bedside cabinet, but Hyunbin whines again, needy and demanding.

"Don't worry," Jisung huffs a little at the effort, because it's easier to do this when he's taking care of himself than when he's got the literal weight of another person on him. "I'll make this worth your while."

He feels his hand reach for the bottle just as he says this and lets out a small victory cry, one that makes Hyunbin whip his head around. Granted, it's probably too much of a show for some lube, but Jisung dangles it in front of Hyunbin's eyes and delights in the way Hyunbin's eyes go wide at the sight.

"Oh." Hyunbin breathes, and Jisung can see the gears turning in his head. "Are you sure-"

"Do you trust me?" Jisung asks, and Hyunbin simply nods, a veil falling over his eyes.

Hyunbin doesn't say a word when Jisung uncaps the bottle, only shivers a little at the contact of the cold lube on his cock. It's when Jisung takes hold of him again, spreads the gel up and down his length, that Hyunbin pleads, "Just need you," his voice barely above a whisper, only broken by the moans that escape him with every stroke of Jisung's hand.

"Here," Jisung says, nudges Hyunbin to align their bodies again. He draws his knees up and motions for Hyunbin to settle between his legs, his cock hanging above Jisung's mound. "Right where you want me. And where I want you."

Though the words seem simple they get a raise of out Hyunbin and he exhales shakily when he looks down at their current situation. "What should I- oh, oh fuck." He stops in his thought when Jisung lifts his hips and grabs his cock again, flattens his palm over it so it rests against Jisung's vulva.

When Jisung calls Hyunbin forward, hungry for another kiss, he feels Hyunbin's cock sliding against him, the friction against his clit making him choke down a moan as Hyunbin's body covers his. Hyunbin seems to realize then, and he moves his hips tentatively, a hand finding its way between them to hold his own length in place, making sure Jisung doesn't miss any of the feeling.

"Jisung-" Hyunbin calls, his face buried against the slope of Jisung's shoulder. "Does it- fuck- is this good? For you?"

It takes Jisung a moment to come back from the high of sensation he's on, all the things he could never satisfy himself with flooding his body, every nerve ending burning up. "What did I do to deserve you," he chokes out, tries to make himself believe that he does, in fact, deserve any of this, any of this satisfaction, the heat pooling in his gut, fire cleansing all the hurt he'd felt before and leaving only searing pleasure. "It's good, yeah, isn't it?"

He's barely making sense but judging by the way Hyunbin groans in return, his cock twitching against Jisung's clit, that doesn't matter much.

The easy way they fall into each other, even with their bodies tensing up at the contact, should tell Jisung all he needs to know. It's a steady rhythm, Hyunbin moving his body in time with the way Jisung reacts to it, and Jisung can only take so much before he begins falling apart, his body trembling under the weight of everything. They've worked themselves up to this, really, Jisung keeping Hyunbin against him, helping him along, a hand teasing his cock when Hyunbin seems to slip away from him. He keeps Hyunbin where he wants him, sure, but Hyunbin makes it pretty clear that he's liking it there, hips bucking down just to increase the friction of his cock between Jisung's legs.

The end of the line feels dangerously close when Hyunbin takes hold of himself, presses the head of his cock against Jisung's clit, teasing the sensitive nub just enough to tear a broken moan from Jisung's throat. It's cruel and it's wonderful and there's a heat spreading down Jisung's thighs then that makes him kick his legs a little just to keep riding this high. Hyunbin gives him some respite, resumes his easy movement, but he sucks a mark in the hollow of Jisung's collarbone and the burn only leaves Jisung reeling for more.

"How rude," Jisung whines, and he feels Hyunbin smile against his skin.

The world spins a little when Hyunbin manages to pick up his pace despite how far he's gone, but in turn his movements only grow more erratic, and Jisung has to guide him, keep him in place to get his due. He reaches down to hold Hyunbin's cock down against his crotch, feels the friction getting rougher, the rhythm losing meaning as everything that matters now is the way Jisung's thighs quiver every time he feels that familiar twitch in his gut.

Bit by bit, like the tide when the moon gets higher in the sky, Jisung feels himself getting pulled to the edge, his heart beating out of sync with the rhythm of their bodies. If he closes his eyes all he can see is stars, all he can feel is Hyunbin's body on his, the pull of everything they both want leaving them out of breath and needing more. But there's only so much one body can take and Jisung feels his giving out soon enough, a shiver running high through him. With just a few seconds to enjoy the last of the fire, the tide washes over him, and he's gone.

It seizes his entire body, a desperate sound ripped from his throat as he rides the wave, loses himself to feelings he’d been denied for much too long. 

Hyunbin tips over the edge in turn, like he was waiting for this tide to wash over them. It feels like a cleansing fire when Hyunbin sags against him, head falling against Jisung's shoulder and leaving his mark there, kisses turning into comets on Jisung's skin.

“You didn’t warn me.” Hyunbin breathes, his voice hoarse. He tries to roll over to the side of the bed but Jisung holds him there, helps Hyunbin readjust himself.

Even though he can barely feel his own limbs, Jisung manages to bring a hand up to cup Hyunbin’s cheek, and he holds him carefully when Hyunbin nuzzles into his palm. “Still caught up to me in the end.”

It’s not clear to Jisung how long they lay there, silent and content, his fingers tracing the lines of Hyunbin’s shoulders and back in a continuous motion until Hyunbin falls asleep. 

He’s mapping out the sky.

  
  
  


Morning wakes both of them up but Hyunbin closes his eyes again at the first sight of sunlight. 

He groans and tries to burrow under the covers, and Jisung just watches him, feels his heart tightening because Hyunbin is here with him still, even after the night has passed. Too often he’s had people leave, even refuse to stay the night, because he’s not much more than a commodity to them and Jisung hates that he’s gotten so used to it.

So there’s that fear again, coursing through Jisung’s whole body, taking hold of him and refusing to let go even when he struggles and begs for it. He swallows hard, when Hyunbin pulls his shirt over his head and leans back against the wall. There’s nothing that should be able to take this moment away, nothing that should be able to come and break apart everything they’d so carefully built.

And yet it settles in Jisung’s throat like poison, seeps down to his stomach, the uneasy feeling churning away until it’s too much to bear. Maybe there was a veil over his eyes last night that made him see things he shouldn’t have. Now it’s being torn off and all Jisung sees is a lonely body in a cold room, left behind because it’s better off that way.

“Morning,” Hyunbin says, stretching his arms over his head. He catches the way Jisung stands there and his face drops, and Jisung’s heart drops with it. “What’s up with you?”

Jisung hates hearing himself say it. "I think it's better if you leave."

This time around, Hyunbin furrows his brows and takes a breath. "Why? What is it, I thought everything was fine-"

His voice is halfway through cracking already and it's more than Jisung can handle. The morning doesn't need to be witness to this, it's better to leave it be, but he can't bring himself to leave Hyunbin restless.

"Because this isn't where you belong, and I don't- I don't want to be here when you realize that," Jisung says, tries to keep his voice as even as possible even when he feels himself wavering.

"I don't know what this is supposed to mean."

In due time, everything in due time. That's how it feels and that's how Jisung knows it will go, because that's how it goes every time, this cruel law of the universe.

"You're going to go out into this world, and do beautiful things," it's the only thing Jisung is sure of, "and you're going to meet people who are much better, so much better for you. And then you'll see, you'll realize that I'm not what you want."

"How can you say this?" In months, this is the first time Jisung has heard Hyunbin sound anywhere close to angry. He's speaking like his throat is closing up around the words but he still needs to say them, so he forces a way out. "After everything we've talked about, all those moments, you think I'd just... throw you away? Leave you behind?"

Jisung feels like the air's been sucked out of the room. He's still standing there, ready to walk out of his own door, and Hyunbin stands up, moves to meet him. But he stops. He stops himself halfway, pulls at the hem of his shirt.

"You can decide to sell yourself short but I'll never see you that way." Hyunbin exhales shakily, like he's trying to keep himself steady enough to keep talking.

It's always like this, at first. "You say that now," Jisung swallows around the knot in his throat, "but there's always a reason to leave."

"All the times you tried to get me to play nice, to play it safe, all the times you tried your best to put me back together, everything you said to me." There's a sadness in Hyunbin's tone that's almost unbearable. "I never forget. Sometimes I replay it in my head just so that I don't forget that you're here, that you're looking out for me."

"I always will." Jisung crosses his arms against his chest just to stop himself from going to Hyunbin and taking him in his arms. No need to make this any worse than it has to be. "That's all I can ever do."

Hyunbin throws his head back and for a split second Jisung thinks he sees something shining in his eyes. "You amaze me. All the time. I wonder how you balance everything that you do, how you find the strength to be all of these things at once, to live all these lives and make everything into one."

It's the most fragile balance, and Jisung doesn't know what he'd do if anything were to tip the scales.

"You're the coolest person I know, yeah?" Hyunbin looks at him, and he's smiling, but there's a quaver in his voice and a tear teetering on the corner of his eye. "And I'm in love with you, and that's really not how I wanted to tell you this but-"

"What did you just-"

Jisung stops himself because he knows that making Hyunbin repeat himself would probably make everything worse. He wishes the world would stop too, that the walls of the room would stop feeling like they're closing in, that the sun would stop rising. But he can't do any of that. He's powerless. Hyunbin's words are lodged in his heart like a bullet and he can't move anymore, lets the steel dig deeper into him. Slowly, Jisung feels his body give up on him, legs barely holding him under the weight of the declaration, so he sits down on the edge of the bed, barely holds his head up to look at Hyunbin.

"I should go." Hyunbin scrubs his hands down his face, hard. There's no trace of his tears anywhere but his voice still shakes ever so slightly. "But don't let me."

But Jisung is still frozen in time, and all he can do is look at Hyunbin and try to find meaning between the lines. He watches as Hyunbin gets his sweater off the floor, runs a hand through his hair to scrape all the remnants of the night away. Even when Hyunbin grips the edge of the doorframe for a second, like he's waiting for Jisung to hold on to him, Jisung can't seem to make his body move with the things he's feeling. So he just watches as Hyunbin gathers his jacket from the living room floor, each of his steps taking him and his promises further.

When the door closes, Jisung closes his eyes. If he tries, he can still feel the heat of the star being born, the explosion that takes over everything.

> _< < here is my hand, _
> 
> _my heart,_
> 
> _my throat,_
> 
> _my wrist._
> 
> _Here are the illuminated cities at the center of me. >>_

The world grows quiet.

Jisung isn't sure when he stops being excited to go to work, but one morning he walks through the door of the clinic and Sewoon restrains himself from giving his usual greeting. He knows Jisung can't help but laugh at it, even if it's terrible and corny, so it's always a good way to start the day. But this time it doesn't come, and Jisung can't bring himself to care. All day long he stares at the clock on the wall, every day, watches the minutes and the hours passing him by. He waits. He waits for something to happen, for someone to walk through the door. He knows exactly who he's waiting for, but he's not sure he deserves that anymore.

Being oblivious was a wonderful thing while it lasted. Now Jisung walks around with a heavy feeling in his chest that he can't name, keeps wondering where he went wrong, if he went wrong, if this was just always meant to happen. He thought he had prepared himself for the worst, carefully, promised himself he would be ready if it had to happen. Go for what you want, and if - when - it doesn't work, at least you'll be left with yourself. But Jisung isn't even sure he's got that anymore, because he doesn't know why he did what he did, said what he said, only that the feeling took over him and erased everything else.

A supernova swallowing up the sun.

Some stars are just meant to burn up, he thinks, when he packs up his bag at the end of the day. Sometimes he goes home, where everything is safe, where even he can't screw up anymore. It's alright. He needs the time alone, the space to think. Sometimes he goes down to the club, brushes off everyone's questions, and tries to lose himself to the lights. They don't seem to burn quite so bright anymore, but they're enough to blind his eyes for a moment.

He'll take it.

  
  
  
  


Weeks pass and one day the bell rings above the clinic's door, as it always does. Jisung has learned not to expect anything from it, not to get his hopes up because they don't matter anymore. So he stays in the back office, mindlessly sorting old files, an easy way to pretend to be busy. His beeper flashes against his hip but he ignores it once, twice, and then he shuts it down and pushes himself away from the desk.

For a moment he has half a mind to just call for Eunki in the other room and tell him to take care of it. But that would probably be unsightly, and he doesn't need anything else to blame himself for. The people who come here don't need to bear his hurt in addition to theirs.

So Jisung drags himself to the waiting room out front, eyes fixed in front of him but not really seeing anything at all. When he gets there, Sewoon is out from behind the front desk to meet him at the end of the corridor.

"Whatever you're thinking right now, forget about it," he says, hands gripping Jisung's shoulder with more force than Jisung had ever attributed to him. He lets go just a second later to let Jisung pass, but he remains standing there, like he's waiting to have to pick up the slack.

One look to the side, to the seats by the door, and Jisung understands.

Sitting there with his hands folded in his lap and his eyes staring straight ahead, Hyunbin waits. Even after everything, after all the times he'd done this dance before and got stepped on, Hyunbin is here and he waits and Jisung doesn't know if he wants to crumble or run. Maybe if he stays perfectly still Hyunbin won't see him. Right now, it seems there's not much else Jisung can do anyway, not when he feels like his feet have been nailed to the floor, his heart beating up a ruckus, the ground trembling beneath him.

He feels Sewoon nudge him forward, just enough to make him take a step. It's all he needs, and Hyunbin watches and there's a sympathetic expression on his face, his lips curled upwards even though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"What happened?" Jisung hears himself blurt out, force of habit. He hasn't seen Hyunbin in weeks and this wasn't how he was ever hoping to change that.

Hyunbin gets up to meet him. Jisung feels relieved to see that he's not limping, doesn't seem to be favoring any particular spot, that he doesn't suddenly feel dizzy. Instead Hyunbin keeps a steady pace, even just for the small room's worth of space between them, and he plants himself in front of Jisung.

"You... you look tired," is the first thing Hyunbin says.

All Jisung can do is nod, and he wants to keep his head down but he can't help but notice the fresh scar on Hyunbin's face, right below his eye. It rises up with the small smile he gives Jisung, the stitches pulling.

Jisung raises a hand, keeps it just inches away from Hyunbin's face. "This is new."

He's not surprised that Hyunbin managed to get himself into some trouble again. It's something that will always happen, just as the sky will keep on changing and the tides will keep on turning and Jisung's heart will keep on breaking a little more each time he sees those eyes. The laws of the universe don't wait for you to make sense of them, Jisung knows this. He shuffles forward just enough to get a closer look at the wound. It's healed up well already and Jisung wonders how long it's been, where it happened, where Hyunbin went to get it taken care of. They’re all questions he wants to ask but answers that he doesn't feel like he deserves.

Thankfully Hyunbin seems to still be able to read him, even now. He touches a hand to the wound, wincing a little as his fingertips make contact. Whether it actually hurts or he's just playing around again, Jisung still feels that same overwhelming instinct to help. It takes all of his willpower to not gently slap Hyunbin's hand away.

"This life just keeps on giving, you know?" Hyunbin huffs and he shrugs a little, because this is routine for him after all. "We both know I've had it worse."

He says it nonchalantly enough that Jisung almost laughs, remembering so many of their incidents one by one. "That's an understatement." Everything flashes, memories like as many stars, coming up to the surface of his mind and overtaking his guilt. "I'm just curious where you went." It comes out on its own before Jisung has time to regret it. He knows he's not entitled to knowing this, to any of Hyunbin's time, but it still stings to wonder about it.

The job was done well, Jisung can see that just from the healing progress. And yet he can't seem to shake the feeling that this world will always be out to get Hyunbin and that he's not sure someone else can take care of him. Jisung wants to mentally slap himself for even thinking that he has a right to claim that right now.

"Just the hospital. The emergency room wasn't as nice as here, but that's what was closest. We kinda needed it, Sanggyun broke his arm so-"

"Wait, is he okay?" Jisung cuts off, and he can’t believe that Hyunbin is saying this like he's doing the weather report.

Hyunbin scratches the back of his head. "Ah, yeah. He's resting and making everyone at the co-op sign his cast." His arm drops to his side and he takes a breath, holds it in for a second. "A lot has happened. Since you and I."

Hearing it makes Jisung clutch his chest on instinct, hand gripping the fabric of his scrubs like he's desperately trying to grasp the weight of Hyunbin's words. To be honest, Jisung isn't quite sure of how much time has passed since then. Keeping track would have meant admitting that it happened, and it's not something he's ready to make peace with, because he still hears Hyunbin's voice that morning, so often when he closes his eyes. It echoes upwards to the sky, trying to find anyone who wants to hear it.

"I’m sorry."

Anyone could call him pathetic right now and Jisung wouldn't even try to fight it. He's fully aware of how pitiful he must look, right now. Hyunbin doesn't say anything at first, but he touches Jisung's arm and Jisung can't help but look up at him, and he's never wanted to take that morning back as badly as he does now.

"It's ok," Hyunbin says, and he sounds sincere, somehow, even though Jisung can't quite understand why. "I thought a lot about what you said, not just that day, but everything we shared." He pulls the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands, plays with them as the words pour out of him. "Just wanted to give you some space. Felt like you needed it."

"How considerate." Jisung doesn't mean for it to come out sounding as mocking as it does. He mentally pinches himself for it. He catches a glimpse of discomfort on Hyunbin's face and scrambles to make it right. "I mean it. I don't really think I deserved it, but... thank you."

Self-flagellation seems to be the only thing he manages, these days. It's certainly not the healthiest way to cope with anything, he's well aware of that and it's probably why he refuses to talk to anyone else about it, but Jisung feels like somehow he needs to atone for the things he's caused. Certainly he's the one who's responsible for these weeks' worth of unsaid things, for this rift that he feels between them, his body standing still right on the edge. He was the one who pushed Hyunbin away, twice over, even when he thought he could handle the feelings that were arising in him and everything that accepting them would imply. He is the one standing here now with nothing to show for himself but grief for all the things he was too cowardly to take for himself. Even today Jisung isn't sure he could explain that morning to anyone, not even himself. He just knows that the hurt he's feeling now is probably nothing compared to the hurt he would have gone through when everything had inevitably fallen apart. And he knows he's a fool for letting himself stay stuck in that idea.

If nothing he does is ever right, then he can probably learn to live with that. But the thought of putting Hyunbin through it is something he doesn't think he can ever bear.

Jisung puts his hands in the pockets of his scrubs, fiddles with the pen he finds in there so it feels like he's actually doing something with them. "Did you have anything you wanted me to check?" He knows he's probably being ridiculous, trying to push back the conversation, but he can't help it, and he can't help the feeling of worry in his gut every time he sees Hyunbin here.

It's been such a constant, and yet there's never a moment that Jisung doesn't wish some of these moments had never happened, because it would mean that Hyunbin is safe, that he's not hurting, that he's going to be ok when he goes home and not feeling the pull of stitches or the sting of a fresh bruise.

Hyunbin huffs and he tilts his head to the side, mild amusement painted on his face. "Yeah, actually." He draws a finger upwards from the middle of his sternum to his heart. "I've been having this weird pain, right here."

Jisung tenses up for a moment too soon, and then he freezes when he realizes what Hyunbin is talking about. It's so ludicrous, so cheesy, and so unbelievably typical of him, and Jisung feels his own kind of twist in that same spot, unable to hold back his laughter. The sound startles him a little and he stumbles forward, almost bumps into Hyunbin.

Of course, Hyunbin catches him. Jisung scrubs a hand down his face, feels his throat getting tight. "I see." He takes a slow, deep breath, listens as his heart refuses to slow down. "Can I take a look at it?"

At that, Hyunbin nods and lets Jisung guide him to one of the examination rooms, the same one they always end up in. It almost feels homely, in a strange way, to sit Hyunbin down on the bench, reflexively tell him to stay still, to go about setting everything up. Jisung only realizes halfway through getting his stethoscope that he doesn't actually need it, but he takes it to the workstation anyway.

"Have you been experiencing any shortness of breath?" What the hell is he doing? That's a mystery even to Jisung right now, but he still waits for Hyunbin's reply.

"Only for the past ten minutes."

This, Jisung should have expected. It's the way Hyunbin has of playing around with him just for the sake of it, to see how far he can push. The long game, some might say it's gone on too long at this point, but the fact that Hyunbin still keeps it up makes Jisung feel a tinge of hope again. Maybe he hasn't seen the end of this yet.

When he places the end of the stethoscope against Hyunbin's chest, Jisung feels that familiar heat creeping up at the back of his neck. He's missed that closeness, sure, but it's mostly that Hyunbin is still willing to let him have it that makes Jisung feel like maybe there's still something to be found there. Intently, he listens to Hyunbin's heart. He counts the beats, matches his own breathing to the rhythm, and it seems like the way opens up, like his own mind is finally clear for the first time in weeks. At this point, it was close to feeling like forever.

"Everything seems fine to me." Jisung pulls away, puts the tool back in its place. The whole time he feels Hyunbin's eyes on him and he knows there's something there for him. It makes him want to do right this time, if it's the last time he ever gets a chance to. "Listen, I- I really am sorry. For everything, for the other day... I'm still not sure what came over me. Might be hard to believe, but I'd actually been trying to work on that." He picks at the seams of his sleeves like the words he's looking for are between the threads. "It's harder than I expected. But I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Everything Jisung says feels like a stone removed from his stomach, and it leaves him feeling like he should have said it all before.

Hyunbin watches him intently the whole time, faint traces of understanding in his expression, but most of all, there seems to be relief. Yet he doesn't speak, and Jisung realizes watching him that there's more he needs to say, so much more that he can't just keep running from.

"I don't have a great track record with," he gestures between the two of them, "this. People have come and gone through my life like I wasn't ever really there and it- fuck, it hurts, you know? That's all there is to it, just hurt, and I'm so afraid of any of it happening again." Hurtling towards the end, Jisung feels like he's reaching his point of no return, thoughts getting jumbled up and messy in his head. "And I didn't want that to happen with you, because I really, really, really like you. To be honest I think," there's nowhere to run. Not now, not ever again. "I'm in love with you too. And it scares me to death."

The whole time, Hyunbin listens. His eyes are shiny and wet, Jisung can tell, but he doesn't point it out because who is he to talk about other people's feelings.

"I realize that it's not fair of me to have just assumed you'd be the same. That you'd just leave once you got a chance." Jisung closes his eyes. It's the cowardly thing to do, maybe, but he can't bear to look at Hyunbin's sincere face when he's saying these things. "But when that fear takes over it's like everything else is gone, and I can't seem to think about anything else and I- I took it out on you. On us." It's the magic word and it feels like fire on Jisung's tongue. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for how other people have treated you." Hyunbin's voice makes Jisung's eyes fly open, because he was half expecting Hyunbin to be gone by now. "I figured it might be something like that, when we were talking at the co-op... I didn't know it had been that bad."

He doesn't even know the half of it, and there's so much Jisung wishes he could just wipe away and start clean. Maybe he can't ever forget, but right now, when the air in the room seems to have cleared up and he can finally breathe a little easier, he can just start to live on.

Hyunbin shuffles to the edge of the bench and folds his hands together. "I have to ask, though." He grins and Jisung nods to give him the go-ahead. "Did you mean that? When you said you love me?"

"Wouldn't ever dream of lying to you," Jisung tells him, and he knows from the flash in Hyunbin's eyes that Hyunbin believes him.

There's a moment when nothing is said, but the silence isn't heavy. It's just the two of them, in this room so familiar they may as well call it home, amongst all the other places where they feel that way. If Jisung's honest, he could just leave it at that, roll this moment up in a bottle and throw it out to the Milky Way.

But Hyunbin doesn't seem to want to become a memory just yet.

"Then we can work with that."

Just hearing that from Hyunbin makes a dam break inside Jisung, all the emotions he'd repressed and the feelings he'd tried to ignore flooding his head and his heart. Even as he tries to swallow them down, he can't seem to stop the tears from stinging his eyes, and he feels them falling down without being able to do a thing about it. They don't hurt as much as Jisung thought they would. Instead he feels like a crushing weight is being lifted, like he can breathe a little easier, even when he's silently sobbing now, Hyunbin just inches away and watching, not daring to say a thing.

"I should have known," Jisung hiccups a little and he sniffles to try and put himself back together. It doesn't work, so he tries to stop caring. "I should have known since the first time we met. You always hold on to what you want, don't you? That's why you never quit on me."

Hyunbin shrugs. "You're worth fighting for," he says, like it's a simple fact. "Thank you for letting me try."

Jisung breathes out, tears still streaming down his face and he lets them, lets all the pain and the hurt of the past few years flow out of him, never to return if he has any say in it. It's the first time in years that he's felt this light. Maybe this isn't everything that he needs, and he knows that there's still a ways to go, that even if Hyunbin is here with him now, the rest of the world probably won't ever be as gentle, and it won't wait for him, and there will be so much that he needs to live with and make peace with. But he lets go of that fear, for now.

"I love you."

It's been so long since Jisung has felt a reason to say it. And it's been so long since he felt like he could really mean it, without having to be scared of what comes after, without thinking of all the conditions he'd have to put on it. Maybe it comes out easier than he'd intended, like it was begging to come out all along. Jisung doesn't even realize that he's stopped crying until Hyunbin takes his hand, and he looks up to find that Hyunbin's eyes are red too, shiny at the edges, and he's trying to hold himself in. He doesn't need to.

"I love you too."

The words are a constellation, etched across a brand new sky.

  
  
  


"We're not going to get sued, right?" Kenta asks, his breath cut short when Sanggyun pulls at the lacing of his corset. He's braced against the wall of the co-op's tiny dressing room, his hair pinned down every which way, pulling the garment up to make sure it fits just right on his waist.

Over in the corner where he's set up, still trying to get used to the place, Jisung scoffs. "It'll be fine. I'm an independent contractor." He smears some gold glitter across his eyelid, makes a show of it. "Besides, this is a charity event, right? They'd be monsters not to let me participate."

The idea had been Kenta's, at first.

Jisung isn't sure when he had become such an integral part of their group, but nowadays he seems to be finding himself spending more and more evenings here, sitting in the corner at the back and throwing back drinks with Sanggyun, or in the front row seats, hollering at Kenta's performance with Donghan. All he knows is that Hyunbin came to pick him up from the clinic one day, and they fell in step with each other to get here, and it's become such an integral part of his life that Jisung isn't sure how he ever lived without it.

He still goes to work at the club, still sees Daehwi whenever they both find time. Life doesn't change so easily, he's known this for a while, but now he's happy about that fact, the stars finally aligned in a way they seemed they never would. The friends he had before are still here, anchored in his heart, and even now when his phone vibrates against the table, it's Daniel's name that flashes on the screen. The text says something about a birthday party, a milestone to celebrate, one that Jisung knows he can't miss. He fires a quick text back, telling Daniel to remind him in the morning, even though he's fairly sure he won't forget, and gets back to his preparations.

They do this every year, or so Taehyun says. A way to properly wrap up the year and prepare for the next one, to make sure everyone is covered before they get swept up in life again, and an occasion to remember where they came from and where they're going. When Jisung walked in he saw the donation buckets, all going to shelters and organizations across town, and he'd dropped a portion of the previous night's tips in there. It felt right, somehow, a way to perpetuate the balance of their community, of their people, to remember the work that they've done to get where they are. 

Usually, he'd be here as a fervent supporter, to cheer Kenta and the other performers on while they burn the night up and write history across the sky. But tonight Jisung is in this room, getting ready to go on stage, and it was all Kenta's idea.

"Please, I'd hope so." Kenta sits down, somehow, despite how tight the corset is laced around him. "Seriously, I'm so glad you agreed to participate. Hyunbin refuses to give up your club's location, and I've been dying to see you on stage."

Having seen Kenta up there, Jisung tells himself it's as high of a compliment as he's ever gotten. He's not even sure why he was hesitant at first, when this place feels like home already, and he knows the people here will treat him like family.

"Blame it on Taehyun's home brew if I flunk it, yeah?" Jisung jokes, relishes in the delighted giggle that comes from Kenta in return. "Seriously, I don't know what he puts in that thing, but I had a shot on my way in and it nearly took me out."

Kenta carefully unpacks his makeup set, hand hovering over the brushes. "Probably better for all of us if we never find out."

Despite his experience, Jisung nods solemnly in agreement that some things are better left unsaid. He leaves the matter alone because he knows he'll end up at the bar later, passing rounds of the stuff against his and everyone else's better judgement.

Instead he turns to Kenta and examines the situation, the way his already lithe body seems to disappear under the corset. "You're going to be okay in there?" Even though he knows that Kenta is probably used to it, Jisung can't help but ask. He's made peace with the fact that, try as he might, he can change his way all he wants but it seems he'll never be able to turn off his instincts.

"I mean, you'll definitely have to cut me out of this later on." Kenta doesn't even look away from his mirror, but the corners of his mouth still curl up into a smile. "But it's ok. I always buy spare laces."

Sanggyun leans against the wall next to him, careful eyes watching the situation unfold. "Honestly, I'm probably the one you should be concerned about." He nudges Kenta with his foot but Kenta remains almost impassive. "Because guess who has to deal with his complaining the next day."

"You're just jealous because you know you'll never rock those rhinestones." Kenta taps his makeup brush in Sanggyun's direction, scattering glitter all over his boyfriend's jeans.

Just watching them, as usual, Jisung gets an inkling of what he's been missing. There's never any punch in the way they pull at each other's strings, because they're comfortable enough to know how far they can go. And at the end of the day, when everything is packed in and everyone is ready to leave, he always sees the two of them, leaning on each other, twin meteors sailing against the backdrop of night.

That kind of love, fully on display, sparks something in Jisung that he'd repressed so far within himself it still takes him a moment sometimes to remember that he has it too.

It's only after Sanggyun has left, though, that Kenta really leans into it.

"You know, I'm really glad you're here with us." He leans back in his chair to admire his work. "And that everything worked out."

"Me too." Jisung can't joke his way around this one. Maybe it had taken longer than it should have to get there, but he doesn't want to inflict any more blame, because he's here now and he's walking that line without being afraid of falling into the void beneath.

Kenta gets up from his seat, takes a few steps as he waits for his lipstick to set. "I know so many of us have been made to believe we don't deserve good things." He touches a fingertip to his lower lip and frowns when color comes away on it. "But fuck that."

The bluntness makes Jisung choke up a laugh. "Right."

"We're stars. And we deserve to shine, yeah?" To emphasize his point, he turns around and his robe billows around him, a vision in full color. "Clichés aside, it's the bravest thing you can do. To allow yourself to love when the world doesn't want you to."

That was one thing Jisung had heard too much, and he’d spent too long letting himself believe it. ‘The world’ had been so many things to Jisung, so many people who'd told him he's better off alone, that it's better if he just knows his place.

Now, he does.

  
  
  


The night goes into overtime.

At the hour where everyone would usually be leaving, the place is still packed full, people singing along to the music playing over the speakers, some occasionally jumping on stage to give extra impromptu performances, some breaking off in little groups and filling the room with joyous chatter. It’s still so busy that Jisung spots Donghan behind the counter, helping Taehyun with orders and looking much better than Jisung has ever seen him. Jisung weaves his way through the crowd and to the bar, running his hand through his hair only to see yet another piece of confetti falling from it.

"There's the man of the hour!" Kenta exclaims, sliding off of his barstool and pulling Jisung into a hug. "I thought you were going to steal my gig."

A little off to the side, Hyunbin raises his hand and waves, the smile on his face so radiant Jisung is pretty sure it could power every single one of the numerous neons in the room. He's not sure when he started thinking in those kinds of terms, feels like a teenager writing in a worn-out diary again, but Jisung welcomes the warmth that spreads through his chest when Hyunbin wraps his arms around him. "Coolest. Person. I. Know." He punctuates each word with sloppy kisses to Jisung's cheek, and Jisung squirms a little with each one because he sees Kenta laughing behind his hand across from them.

But he still settles in Hyunbin's arms then, steals a sip from his glass while Hyunbin isn't looking, and then some more when he is. Hyunbin barely protests.

"We've already got people asking when you'll be back." Taehyun calls from behind the bar, shot glasses already aligned in front of him.

Jisung pleads with him for some soju first, just so he can get in the mood, and Taehyun gives him a devilish grin before pushing the glass towards him.

"At this rate, maybe sooner than we think," Jisung welcomes the buzz when he takes a swig from his own drink. "I've decided, I'm not going to settle quite yet."

There's a round of cheers and applause when he says this, and though he knows he's going to have to think about it, about balancing his life with all the things he's been missing, Jisung decides to just enjoy it for now. He laughs quietly to himself thinking about how Jaehwan will react, about how he'll probably end up bringing the boys here too, about how maybe his world and this world can be one and the same.

It certainly feels this way when he's here, in Hyunbin's arms, and though there's still a bit of uncertainty in his heart it's easy enough to chase it away if he just closes his eyes and listens to the world spinning. It's calling him.

"We're going to be able to support so many places this coming year." Sanggyun comes up from the storage room that’s used as an office, hands Taehyun a folded up piece of paper. "Just finished doing a first count, and the night's not even over... It's real good."

Something comes over Taehyun that Jisung has never seen before, when he opens the paper and reads its contents. His usually sharp gaze grows soft and he sighs, a content smile spreading across his face. "Thank you. Thank you all, so much," Taehyun says, and even over the ambient noise Jisung could swear he hears Taehyun's voice cracking just a little. "It's going to be a good year."

Donghan comes up behind him, his face set in a sympathetic expression, a hand firmly gripping Taehyun’s shoulder. “Best one yet, yeah?” he says loud enough that everyone around the bar hears, lifts his arm up to get the attention of the crowd. “We’re always going higher!”

Of course, they all drink to that. Taehyun folds the paper into his back pocket and retrieves the unlabeled bottle from under the counter, and Jisung feels hairs standing up on the back of his neck at the sight of it.

"Oh dear." He can't stop himself from saying it, and Hyunbin laughs next to him, lets his head fall against Jisung's shoulder.

Despite the dubious previous experience he and all of them have with Taehyun's home-brewed liquor, whatever the thing might actually be, they all cheer up to the sky and knock their drinks back.

Jisung squeezes his eyes shut when he feels the burn down his throat, and he has to take a deep breath when he feels his eyes beginning to sting. "Seriously, what is in this thing?"

"You don't want to know." Donghan raises his eyebrows and raises his own empty glass. 

Taehyun pours himself another shot and cheers to Jisung's health before he downs it as well. "It's good for you. Cleansing even."

"Much like the fires of hell, you know?" Sanggyun interjects, and Taehyun shrugs at him, visibly content with his effect as always.

Taehyun wipes down the bar where some of the liquor spilled over - Jisung is surprised it hasn't started dissolving the wood - and throws his towel back over his shoulder. "I open my home to you and this is how you repay me."

"It's ok, boss," Hyunbin teases. "We love you anyway, you know that."

With the balance of things restored, Taehyun goes back to serving the other patrons, though Jisung quickly notices that he can't help but glance back from time to time to make sure everything is alright. Jisung wishes he could tell Taehyun that it is, and that he shouldn't worry just now, but he understands the feeling too well and so he simply meets Taehyun's eyes and nods, a promise that all of them are going to find their way home in the end.

When Jisung falls into the lull of the conversation, it feels like they already have.

"You did really well out there," Hyunbin mutters in Jisung's ear, only for the two of them. "It's always good to see you on stage, and I like the club but... this felt special, you know?"

Jisung does knows. "I used to feel like I missed the chance to do my part but," he thinks of Daehwi then, of the birthday and the milestones. "Never too late to do what's right."

If this is only a step towards the stars, at least it's one thing he's done that Jisung won't have to regret.

  
  


The night ends as it started, in a flurry of color and sound and love, everyone cheering for each other and celebrating the success of the charity drive. They're still sitting at the bar watching the patrons pour out, and Jisung feels happy just listening to Hyunbin wave all of them goodbye, names he'll remember eventually because they'll become a part of him too.

Kenta and Sanggyun leave last, right before Jisung and Hyunbin do. "Text me when you get back, ok?" Kenta urges Hyunbin, pinching his cheek. "Both of you," he adds, cocking an eyebrow in Jisung's direction.

"You too, please." Jisung holds up his pinky, and Kenta seems more than happy to complete the promise.

Even though he has it on good authority that both Kenta and Sanggyun can take care of themselves, Jisung also has plenty of experience with things not going their way. Better safe than sorry, he thinks, but he feels confident when he sees the both of them out the door.

The place is so quiet now that it almost feels strange, in a way. Since Hyunbin wedged himself a place in Jisung's life in earnest, it seems to Jisung like there hasn't been many moments like this, the calm in the eye of a storm that for once he's happy to be swept away in. Jisung stares down the bottom of his glass while Hyunbin and Donghan help Taehyun clean up, and he thinks that with all the ways his life changed, he's glad there are still some moments like this, when he can slow down and realize that he doesn't have to try nearly as hard to put on a happy face anymore. There's no more need to pretend, not when he watches Hyunbin bounce around the place - even though he's still favoring the knee he injured the week prior - and realizes he won't have to imagine how the night could have gone, because it happened, and because the next morning will be happy too.

If he can help it, Jisung will make sure every day is like this from now on.

"All good?" he asks when Hyunbin comes to check on him while Taehyun is putting the last of the clean glasses away.

Hyunbin slumps over him, head resting on Jisung's shoulder. "Let's go. I'm spent."

"You two be careful, it's freezing out there," Taehyun warns. He disappears under the counter for a second, and when he comes up, he's holding his bottle of liquor again. "One more for the road, to warm you up?"

Every single one of Jisung's responsible instincts is telling him he should decline, because he still has to find the way back to his place after this, but instead he nods and slams a hand down on the bar. "Hit me with your best shot."

It's a dangerous thing to say to Taehyun, because before Jisung knows it there's four shot glasses lined up in front of him and Taehyun has filled them to the brim, and he's got a hand on his hip like he's anticipating a spectacle.

"You're sure you want to take any more responsibility for this?" Jisung argues half-heartedly, but he's already picked up his glass by the time he finishes his sentence."

Taehyun answers with a smirk. "Try me."

It doesn't take much more than that, and the three of them raise their glasses up to a brand new day.

  
  


If the idea was to warm them up, it certainly worked. As soon as Jisung steps outside, he can tell it's cold by the way his breath fogs in front of him, but all he can feel is the burn in his cheeks.

"Why do we keep letting him do this?" he asks, mostly to himself, arm looping around Hyunbin's to anchor himself.

Even though he's not exactly walking in a straight line either, Hyunbin does his best to hold Jisung up. "He means well, I'm sure." He giggles to himself when he nearly trips his own feet on the street corner. "You're not cold, yeah?"

"Definitely not." Jisung holds Hyunbin tighter, closer still.

He hasn't felt cold in a long time.

When the two of them are together, even on an icy street, there's a star burning warm and bright at Jisung's core, and it keeps him standing on his own two feet. Just a few weeks ago it seemed so much easier to let it burn right through him, to let it explode and die and swallow him whole. But there's no reason for that, not anymore.

They're walking under the same sky and Hyunbin is here next to him, he hasn't run away yet, and the way he keeps his footsteps aligned to Jisung's makes Jisung believe that maybe, definitely, Hyunbin will stay.

"Hey," Hyunbin calls out to the night, and Jisung hears him too.

"Yeah?"

Hyunbin doesn't stop walking, their hearts don't stop beating. "I love you."

Oh. That's one thing Jisung doesn't think he's going to get used to any time soon.

"Just felt like saying it." Hyunbin looks down at his feet, and then he pulls Jisung into his arms, stops them right here on the sidewalk, still so far from home. "Until you believe it."

It's not something Jisung tries to let show, but he guesses there's no hiding from Hyunbin. At least this time Jisung knows he wants to, that he'll get there, that he'll hold on to this and make it last.

"I love you too." He winds his arms around Hyunbin, looks up and sees the moon. "Tonight, and tomorrow."

Hyunbin gets closer, until their foreheads are touching and he's speaking so softly that not even the stars can hear. "I'll still be here."

And then he kisses Jisung, but there's no urgency in it, a slow wave that takes them both away to better days. It's so easy to fall into it, follow the movement of Hyunbin's lips, and if Jisung hears himself whimpering just a little, he can always blame it on the liquor.

Jisung has gotten used to not believing in things like this, too used to it perhaps, and it takes a moment for Hyunbin's words to seep in under his skin and settle into his heart. But he knows this time he can. Though it's only been a few weeks, and he still finds himself waking up and forgetting that they've come this far, there's a certain joy in realizing it all over again.

He still sees Hyunbin walk through the clinic's front door a little too often for his liking, but Jisung figures that if it's the only worry he has to live with, maybe it's ok. Flesh wounds heal, though they remain scattered like memories for the world to see, they'll just be stories the two of them can tell, further along the road. The hurt Jisung had felt so many times now feels like it was so long ago, like it's slowly letting him go.

"So will I," Jisung promises, the words floating up into the air.

No more running away. No more running from the things that he wants, even though they still scare him. There's never been a repeat of that evening, of the cold, biting pain of that morning, though those are two memories that are still fresh in Jisung's mind and still trying to leave their own mark. But it's not quite far behind enough and Hyunbin seems to know it, because he clings to Jisung in the morning after he spends the night, and he tells Jisung all the things he needs to hear as many times as he needs to hear them. Jisung would try to tell him that he doesn't have to, except he tried and Hyunbin wouldn't hear it, so he lets himself be the one who's taken care of, and he tries not to think about anything else.

The change of pace isn't unwelcomed so much as it is unusual, and Jisung still shivers from something entirely different than the cold when he's here in Hyunbin's arms.

And the world keeps on going. It never stopped, never crumbled under his feet.

Hyunbin seems content with the way of things too, disentangling himself from Jisung only to throw an arm over his shoulder and pull him close as they start walking again. He doesn't drop Jisung off at the subway station, instead lets himself be pulled down the steps into the empty corridor, laughs under the harsh neon lights, and if he falls asleep on Jisung's shoulder as soon as they're seated inside the train, Jisung doesn't dare to wake him up.

They’re following the star that burns up and away in their hearts, and they’ll be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, all insert quotes from poems by richard siken
> 
> 1\. you are jeff  
> 2\. i had a dream about you  
> 3\. self portrait against red wallpaper  
> 4\. the dislocated room  
> 5\. war of the foxes  
> 6\. a primer for the small weird loves  
> 7\. saying your names
> 
> the co-op bar/performance space that appears in this and is hyunbin & co's regular workplace and hangout was 100% inspired by the one appearing in netflix's tales of the city miniseries. all credit where credit is due.
> 
> i have to give many many many thanks to my wonderful friends ted, gaelle, dylan & clarisse for their continued support in seeing this through ;;
> 
> thank you cody for betaing this!!
> 
> and thank you to anyone who's taken interest in this fic and made it to the end! i didn't imagine it would turn out quite so massive and i'm really proud, so thank you very much if you went on this journey with me <3


End file.
